Anime Addventure : A Hellsing at Hogwarts
by tutcat
Summary: Integra at Hogwarts (all stories up for adoption)


Disclaimer: I do not own Hellsing or HP. They are owned by their respective owners. Not out to make any money or fame on others work.

This is a collection of fic's I was able to save of a web archive that has shut down recently. Some had been edited so my text reader would work better. So original authors and extra stuff was removed from the fic .

On the ones that have not been edited I will be editing them so the original authors will get credited for their parts. Also if you have the parts that I'm missing let me know in a PM will edit them in. Same with other fic's if you have them will post for others to be able to read.

A Hellsing at Hogwarts: Reluctant Witch

by SP

The van Helsing estate, home to the van Helsing family and the Hellsing organization, was usually bustling with activity in the late afternoon, as the elite vampire-hunting shock troops performed maintenance and final check-ups of their equipment in preparation for the coming night's activities. Yet today, the soldiers - to a man - were cowering under whatever was handy, unless they could come up with a plausible reason to be far, far away. Because sweet, timid little Integra, darling daughter of the commander, was throwing a tantrum, the likes of which had not been heard in centuries.

"No! Father, I will not go to Hogwarts! What they teach is heresy - blasphemy - abomination!. I mean, witchcraft! They should all burn in Hell!" The final word was accompanied with a resounding crash as one of the flower vases in the room decided to spontaneously shatter in a particularly spectacular fashion.

The elder van Helsing shook his head at his daughter, who was most likely the cause of the explosion in the first place. He shouldn't have left so much of her upbringing to the house vicar, it seemed - the man was good for blessing weapons and rousing the troops, but he had precious little tact or tolerance for other faiths - and tolerance, feigned or real, would be a necessary survival skill in the next head of the van Helsing family and the Hellsing organization. Besides the need to learn to control her wild talents, he had great faith that Integra Wingates Fairbrooks van Helsing would learn the value of tolerance and unlikely alliances there. In fact, he could almost guarantee it.

"Daughter, it is necessary to go there in order to learn to control your powers - they can't be driven out of you, and the only other option would be to lock you in a room until they fade away, which usually leaves the poor witch or wizard insane. Is that what you want, Integra? To live as a prisoner in this tower until madness takes you?"

"But they're heathens, father! Blasphemers!" Integra whinged, and her father sighed.

"One day soon, Integra, you must learn that the one God has many faces, and that each man may choose the one he finds most suitable. As witches are born, and not made, do you not think that others at this school will share your faith? God gave you this gift, and I expect he had in mind that you use it, not throw it away,"

The argument continued for a few more hours before he finally wore her down to grudging acceptance. Drat that accursed vicar!

by PsyckoSama

Integra Wingates-Hellsing was one seriously aggravated little girl. Not only was she being forced to go to some accursed school for foul witches and demonic sorcerers, but now she was going to be dragged down some freakish alley way by Walter in order to buy "school supplies".

She sneered.

She though someone like Walter, who battled the Nazi's and their secret magical projects, stood against the Soviets and their vile experiments into the paranormal, and who had become the nightmare horror of countless unholy beasts and monsters, would understand.

Walter looked down to the girl. "Integra. I know you are upset, but I will ask you to please keep a civil demeanor befitting one of your noble lineage and stature."

"But Walter, these people are witches…" she whined slightly, "Isn't the duty of our family to destroy dark magic using blasphemers?"

"But you are also a witch, Integra," he replied. "I guess that makes you blasphemer too."

"I am not!" she exclaimed.

"Exactly," he replied warmly. "Not all witches are blasphemer who use dark magic."

"But…"

"Would her majesty the Queen allow such wicked people to live on the shores of Albion?"

"No…" she deflated.

"Exactly. Not all wizards are evil, there is even a secret Ministry of Magic that exists to govern the activities of wizards inside the borders of the British Empire and punish their crimes?"

She blinked, "But isn't that Hellsing's job."

"No, Lady Integra. They rule and police the Wizarding world, but it is the duty of the Hellsing Organization to hunt down destroy any mystical threats to crown and county. The ministries' Aurors are the Bobbies, while we are the Royal Marines."

Walter smiled and looked over to the Leaky Caldron. "Come integra. There is the entrance to Diagon Alley."

"All I see is a ratty old pub."

"Perfect camouflage, isn't it?" he smiled thinly, "Or at least it would be if 'Muggles' could see it."

"Muggle?"

"It's the phrase that witches call people without magic."

Integra sneered. "It sounds insulting."

"It's not," he replied, "but it anyone calls you a 'mudblood'…"

She blinked. "Mudblood?"

"There are wizards my dear Lady Integra who look down on those without magic and consider them lesser. Mudblood is a term for a wizard born of normal parents. Mudblood… Dirty Blood."

Integra's eyes narrowed. "I will remember that."

Walter smiled. "Now, come Integra…"

by SoftRogue

Entering the ratty looking pub, Integra did her best to hide her surprise. To begin with, the inside of the pub looked in much better repair that the outside and it was also quite larger inside that she would have thought. Either this old pub was the product of an architectural genius or, Integra grimaced, magic.

The second thing she noticed was the few people in the pub. Integra couldn't help but notice the stereotypical long robes and pointed hats the various men and women; no...wizards and witches were wearing. The fact that the room had quieted as she and Walter had entered and everyone's attention was drawn to the two of them also didn't escape Integra's attention. There eyes quickly darted first to her family's old retainer with suspicion before they glanced at her with sudden understanding before the patrons when back to their drinks.

Having no desire to be the center of attention, Integra quickly followed Walter as he walked towards the barkeep.

'If Walter thinks that there's nothing wrong with these...people then perhaps I should at least try to get use to the thought of them and their magic.' the young heiress thought to herself with a mix of resignation and anger. 'It's not like I have any choice in the matter. But under no circumstances whatsoever am I going allow someone to force me to wear one of those dreadful hats!'

"Welcome to the Leaky Caldron, my name's Tom. What can I do for you?" The barkeep introduced himself as Integra and Walter neared the bar.

"I'm told that entrance to a place called 'Diagon Alley' could be obtained here." Walter answered with a slight confused tone, "Perhaps you might be able to assist us?"

"Of course," Tom said, rounding the bar and motioning the pair to follow them. "I take it you're bringing around your granddaughter to gather her school supplies for Hogwarts, yes?"

Integra couldn't help but snort slightly as Walter replied, "I am merely a humble family retainer. Unfortunately, my Master was unable to come today so he asked me to escort his daughter on her trip."

"I see." said Tom with a friendly smile as he held the back door to the pub open for them. "Well, in that case, I hope you wouldn't mind a little advice?"

"Not at all, my good man. Not at all." replied Walter as they followed the barkeep into the back alley.

"I would first suggest you visit Gringotts where you'll be able to change your Pounds for Galleons. From there, I'd suggest you either visit Madam Malkin's for her school robes or Ollivanders so she can get her wand. Flourish and Blotts is where you can pick up her books and there are several stores nearby where you can find the rest of her supplies. Oh, and it would be best if you avoid Knockturn Alley; it's not exactly the best place for someone so young." Tom said with an ease that suggested he had given this advice many times before.

Nodding his thanks, Walter said, "We shall keep that in mind."

As they approached a brick wall, Integra watched with an almost morbid fascination as Tom pulled out a wand and tapped a specific brick three times. Then, to her shock, the bricks of the wall began to shake before the folded back on each other revealing an archway.

"Oh, by the way," Tom said as he looked at the young heiress with a smile in his eyes. "I didn't catch your name my dear."

"Integra." She introduced herself, with the grace and bearing she was taught since birth. "Integra Wingates Fairbrook Hellsing; at your service."

Integra couldn't help but smirking as the barkeeps face suddenly became white as he stuttered "He...He...Hellsing?"

"Come along, Madam Integra. We have much to do." Walter said, stepping through the archway leading to Diagon Alley.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley, Madam Integra."

by PsyckoSama

Integra stared in awe as she and Walter walked down Diagon Alley. She had been exposed to magic since she was a little girl, and had learned to hate and fear it. After all, her family's duty was to destroy the forces of darkness and most of the magic she had seen was of the darkest kind. She was quickly learning that there was more to magic than ghouls and vampires.

The things she saw in this place were absolutely enchanting, magical in a good way! There was nothing she could really put her finger on, it was just so many little things. Her paranoia was quickly being replaced by the sense of wonder only an 11 year old girl could possess.

"What first?" she asked Walter in a excited tone.

He laughed. "I see this place is growing on you…"

She blushed slightly in embarrassment and crossed her arms, taking a stance that would appear stern if it wasn't just so damn cute. "It is not," she denied.

Walter shook his head and looked down to the letter that been sent to Castle Hellsing.

"According to this your require three black robes… a pointed hat…"

"You're not getting me in one of those hats," she all but hissed.

"Its part of the uniform, Lady Integra."

"No hat!"

"You have to have one."

"I don't care!"

"I never said you'd have to wear it."

She sighed. "Fine…"

Walter nodded and continued down the list. "Protective gloves, a cloak… books… wand/cauldron set…"

"A set?" Integra asked.

Walter shrugged. "I'm not sure, Mr. Tom recommended a place called Ollivanders for the wand."

"What does that matter?" she asked.

Walter smiled and looked behind her. Integra turned around to see what he was looking at.

Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.

"Don't we need to exchange money at that Gringotts place?" she asked

"Your father keeps a rather large amount of wizarding money in the mansion, just incase."

She nodded and the two entered the store and immediately they were set upon by a kindly looking, bright eyed old man.

"Good morning, and welcome to Ollivanders," he stated warmly. "How may I help you today?"

Integra coughed. "I'm looking for a wand."

"Yes I am," she replied.

"I am afraid that I am at a disadvantage. You are Muggle born, are you not? If a mage born wizard enters, I am usually able to figure out their parents. I never forget a face, or a wand. What's your name, young lady?"

"Integra Wingates Fairbrook Hellsing, Mister… Ollivanders I take it?"

He nodded, and smiled. "And a Hellsing is going to Hogwarts?"

She scowled slightly. "Is something wrong with that?"

He laughed, "Not at all, though I take it you're not informed with your families famous, or rather, infamous reputation in the wizarding world."

She shook her head.

"Very well, I will tell you. Some wizards think the Hellsing are just a pack of muggles sticking their noses into something that they cannot understand. Others see you as no different then the witch hunters of old, jealous muggles trying to dominate and oppress the mage born."

Integra scowled. "Our duty is to protect queen, country, and church from the forces of darkness!"

He nodded. "I like to keep an open mind, and in fact I am very glad you are coming to Hogwarts."

"Why?"

"A wizard Hellsing may serve to weaken old fears and help smooth acceptance… except for among some of the less respectable pureblood families, and if you ask me they have good reason to fear you… but I digress… which is your wand arm?"

"I'm right handed… if that's what you mean."

"Of course." He swiftly measured her arm, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Lady Hellsing. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand"

He handed her a wand. "Oak and Dragon's heartstring, 10 3/4 inches. Very pliable."

Integra looked at it.

"Go ahead, give it a flick."

She did so and he snatched it out of her hand

He pulled out another. "9 inches. Burch and dragon feather. Swishy, good for charms."

She gave it a wave and it was immediately taken back. This continued for what seemed to be forever.

"Yes!" Ollivander exclaimed. "I think I may know JUST the wand for you!"

He walked into the back and returned with a very dusty box and opened it. The cardboard was discolored and warped with age but the wand looked as if it had just been made.

"This wand was crafted long ago… long before my time."

"Then why hasn't it sold?" she asked.

"Because, a wizard does not choose a wand. The wand chooses the wizard. 10 inches, Hawthorn with a core of Unicorn's Horn. IT is somewhat stiff but not inflexible. Strong for all forms of Defense Against the Dark Arts! Come now, give it a flick!"

She did so and a shower of sparkles fired from the tip.

"Amazing!" he exclaimed, "So this old wand has finally found its wizard! Curious though, very curious…"

Integra blinked. "How so?"

"This wand is of an older craft, using materials no longer common. Unicorn horn is expensive and no longer permissible in the construction of wands and Hawthorn is very difficult to construct a reliable wand out of. Even the slightest flaw and the wand may be prone to backfire. Wands like this were reserved for only the most noble of warrior-magi."

Integra almost cooed. The most noble of warrior mages! She suddenly had a vision of herself in shining armor smithing vampires and ghouls with powerful magics, a knight of the round table and almost like a beautiful lady Merlin.

"Now, you must know that wands like this are both powerful, rare, and expensive to make. That is why I must ask for 45 Galleons."

Walter immediately paid the man.

"Thank you," Ollivander stated as he packaged the wand.

As Integra and walter left, he shook his head. "Curious, very curious…"

by Bastet's Chosen

"Where to next?" Integra asked. Perhaps they could purchase a spell book and she could practice with her new wand.

"I believe we shall purchase your robes, cloak, and the hat you shall never wear, my lady," Walter replied, his tone at its driest.

"That's right!" Integra agreed wholeheartedly. Although she then had a sudden vision of a number of students lined up, all wearing pointed hats except herself, making her terribly stand out. Integra snorted to herself. Of course she'd stand out! She was a lady and the heir to Hellsing.

"Here we are," Walter announced, bringing Integra back from her thoughts. They stood before Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, although the sign was as little hard to read as a giant man was peering into the window, presumably waiting for someone inside from the two ice-cream cones he held. Not that he wasn't large enough to eat both himself.

"This way," a young, thin witch said as they entered. Integra frowned, but followed the woman into a backroom. The woman skirted the edge of rudeness, but may just be zealous in her duties, an attitude any Hellsing should approve of. The room already had two boys standing on stools while seamstresses pinned up the hems of their long black robes. "Hogwarts?" Integra's attendant asked.

"Yes," Integra confirmed.

"One of the seamstresses will be with you shortly," the woman replied, then exited back into the front room.

The paler boy was speaking. "-really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways-"

"And whom would you be, sir?" Integra interrupted. Accepting that the wizards and their magic were not blasphemous was one thing, allowing them to put on airs was another.

The pale boy gave her an oily smile. "Draco Malfoy."

"And your father?" she asked.

"My father's name? Lucius Malfoy." The boy appeared to expect she might recognize the name.

"I ask," Integra continued, "because you speak as if your birth granted you superiority over others. I naturally assumed that you, or at least your father, was a member of the peerage. To my surprise, I find you are no more than a commoner with pretensions." Draco's pale face gained a satisfying red tint.

"Who do you think you are?" he demanded. Integra smiled coldly. The common throng lack of recognition of her family's duty and accomplishments always vexed her. From the wandmaker's words, that would not be so amongst these wizard-folk.

"I am the Lady Integra Wingates Hellsing, peer of the realm and your superior by birth and breeding," Integra replied. "And I shall remain so unless the Queen, in the wisdom granted her by God, elevates you from your common roots. An event I doubt shall happen." The hush that descended in the room upon hearing her surname was quite satisfying. Only the second boy with the odd scar seemed unaffected.

"I take it your parents are not wizards, either?" Integra asked. It was obvious he had never heard of Hellsing and, while he obviously was another commoner, she thought it likely that he, at least, was a member of the Church of England.

"Well, they were, but I didn't know that until today. They died when I was little and I was raised by my Aunt and Uncle, who're muggles," the boy replied. "Uh, ma'am," he added self consciously.

"Call me Integra, Mr. . ."

"Um, Harry Potter." The boy said his name with some trepidation. Draco appeared to have received a second shock to his system and everyone else, including Walter, turned to look at the boy. Integra was not happy to be the only one ignorant of his significance.

"Pleased to meet you," Integra replied. She would have fallen back on her training and presented her hand, but the boy obviously couldn't move to take it, what with his robe being pinned and all.

"Well he's not pleased to meet you, Hellsing," Draco sneered.

"You will address me as 'my Lady' or 'Lady Hellsing', peasant," Integra replied icily.

"If these soft spines are going to sell you anything, I won't address you at all," Draco shot back. "I'm leaving, and you can expect my family will not return here again." The boy suited his actions to his words and stormed off.

"I hope we aren't forced to suffer his presence again," Integra said to Harry.

"He was being a snot," Harry tentatively agreed, "but, I mean, I didn't really think it was worth getting into a fight over."

"Don't let them put on airs, Harry," Integra responded, "They are nothing special. You, on the other hand, are on a first name basis with a peer of the realm."

Harry nodded, but, from the speed with which he left when his robe was pronounced done, Integra thought he must have been uncomfortable.

"Well, then," Integra said to the seamstresses who now turned to her. "My robes are to be of the finest materials. I expect the coarsest to be of Egyptian cotton at the very least-" A sudden thought struck Integra; she was supposed to be embracing this magic, correct? "On second though, cotton just will not do. Each is to be immune to staining or self-cleaning with such speed as to effectively not stain. They will not tear or fade. You will decorate them with lace, but not excessively or unattractively so. The breast of each robe will be embroidered with the Hellsing crest. . . "

by SoftRogue

***Elsewhere***

"Your Majesty. May I present the Commander of the Order of the Royal Protestant Knights, Director of the Hellsing Organization, Knight of the Roundtable Council, Protector of the Faith and Guardian of the British Empire by the Grace of God and Her Majesty; Queen Elizabeth the II. Sir William Fredrick Hellsing the III."

With a practiced ease, William walked into one of the many private sitting rooms within Buckingham Palace. Coming to a stop before his Queen he lowered himself to one knee and, crossing an arm across his chest, he bowed his head in reverence.

"Your Majesty." he intoned solemnly.

After a moments pause, the Queen spoke. "Rise, Sir Hellsing. And please, come, sit." she said, motioning to the empty chair near her.

"Thank you, your Majesty." he said before accepting the proffered seat.

"Tea?" the Queen asked and, seeing Sir Hellsing nod, motioned for a server to pour the beverage for the both of them.

As the servant filled the teacups, William did his best to hide his…disquiet at this most untimely summons. Originally, he had planned to escort his daughter on his trip to Diagon Alley to get her school supplies today. Unfortunately, with the business of running one of Her Majesties most important (and secretive) branches had left him with less time bonding with Integra than he would have liked. As much as William wished, he had no choice but to leave that task in the most capable hands of Walter.

After all, it would not do to ignore a personal summons from the Queen.

Once the cups were filled, the Queen dismissed the servant with a wave of her hand. Once they were alone, Her Majesty took a moment to enjoy the tea. Following suite, Sir Hellsing took a sip of his own tea, enjoying the subtle blend.

Returning her cup to its saucer, the Queen graced William with a small smile. "Forgive the sudden summons, Sir Hellsing. I have recently realized that it has been some time since I have had an opportunity to speak to you face to face."

"I live but to serve, your Majesty." he replied.

"So tell me, how is your daughter, Integra, doing these days."

William paused a moment, realizing what the nature of this sudden meeting must surely be about. It came as no surprise that the Queen had learned about Integra being a witch. While he hadn't informed anyone within the British Government who would be in a position to know about the Wizarding world, he could think of at least half a dozen ways off the top of his head how her Majesty could have come to have such knowledge. He quickly decided how best to reply, as one does not lie to one's Queen; he decided to speak the truth.

"Integra is growing into a fine young woman, almost the spitting image of her mother." he answered softly.

Letting out a small laugh, the Queen said, "If memory serves me correctly, my dear Sir Hellsing, your wife was quite the spitfire. I'm sure that Integra must be a handful."

"Indeed she is." William said with a fond smile, which slowly slid off of his face as he continued. "However, it has recently come to my attention that Integra seems to have a rather...skewed position concerning some of the more...reclusive subjects of the Empire." he finished carefully.

"I see." the Queen said thoughtfully, "Well then, We certainly hope that the recent opportunity that has presented itself to Integra will be helpful in broadening her horizons when dealing with the wide variety of peoples within Our Empire."

As she fell silent, William held his breath as he waited for the Queen to continue. Seeing that she had started using the royal third person, he knew that whatever was on Her Majesty's mind was more important that simple curiosity about hi daughter's well being. Sir Hellsing didn't have to wait long before she began speaking again.

"Over the past several decades, Our relationship with Our subjects within the Wizarding world have become...distant. While it is well within their right to police their own, it has become evident that, over the years, they prefer to deal with any and all situations without Our input or knowledge. While We could see fit to evoke the Covenant, it is Our belief that a more diplomatic solution would be more beneficial for all. Were one of Our most trusted servants in a high-ranking position be a recognized member of their community, We feel that this would help ease tensions with both of our worlds. Do you understand, Sir Hellsing?"

"I understand, my Queen." Sir Hellsing said somberly.

"Very well." the Queen replied before relaxing and, saying in a less formal tone, "So if you find it beneficial, William, please let Integra know that I would be most pleased to hear that she is doing well in her classes. Not that I wish to put more pressure the dear girl, mind you."

"Of course, your Majesty."

The Queen smiled and took a sip of her tea as she looked out the window. "So tell me, Sir Hellsing, how is your...guest doing these days?"

Frowning, William carefully said, "Sleeping quite securely, I assure you. However, I am quite certain he is...aware, for lack of a better term, of the happening at the Castle."

"I see..." the Queen replied, a soft smile on her lips.

by Arthur Hansen

"There you go, Mistress Integra. That should be everything you need," Walter said.

Integra nodded, her expression a bit surly. Her father had again failed to accompany her. "Thank you, Walter. I will see you during Christmas." She turned and pulled her luggage cart towards the train stations. In just a few minutes she was at platform number 9.

She glanced over towards platform number 10, noting that there was no such thing as platform 9 3/4s. She almost lost her cool, thinking that someone had tricked her when she remembered an important piece of information that her father had imparted to her.

Just because it looks impossible, does not mean it is.

She tapped her chin with her finger thoughtfully. She dragged her luggage cart over to the brick column that lay between the two platforms. Just before her fingers touched it, she stopped and glanced around. No one seemed to be watching.

She closed her eyes and then just walked forward. When she didn't hit the expected wall, she smiled but did not open her eyes for another two seconds of walking forward.

In front of her lay Platform 9 3/4s, the antique red train laying in front of her.

"This way, missy!" a rather plain and normal man said; while grabbing her luggage and starting to load it for her.

"Thank you," she replied automatically, nodding her head slightly as the aristocrats were always won't to do. With that she entered the train. She smiled as she realized why Walter had insisted on arriving early. He had wanted to test her, as he and her father did constantly. He must have known about the entrance trick.

Only ten minutes later, a young girl entered the compartment. "You don't mind sharing, do you?" she asked.

"Not at all," Integra replied. With a small frown, she realized that the girl did not have a proper upper-class accent. Most likely, she would be the only person of noble birth here. That was something she would just have to adjust to then. "Lady Integra Wingates Hellsing."

"Hermione Granger," the other girl said as they shook hands. "I've never met any nobility before." She tried to curtsy as best as possible.

"I fear that being of noble birth will not help much at Hogwarts. They would not even let me put my family crest on my robes. I guess that is because Hogwarts has houses that you live with while you are there." Integra pushed her glasses back up her nose.

"Hellsing?" Hermione muttered. She smiled suddenly. "Like the book Brahm Stoker's Dracula?"

"That book was not accurate at all," the noble said with a pout of vexation.

Hermione blinked in surprise. She gulped suddenly as a thought occurred to her. "So Vampires are... real?"

"Oh, yes. My family has been hunting Vampires and other monsters that threaten Queen and Country for generations."

"Wow! I did not realize that he was a wizard!" she gushed. "I wonder-"

"My ancestor was not a wizard. As a matter of fact, I am the first witch in my family," she almost snapped out, a tone of dislike in her voice.

"Ah. I see. Me too! I mean, I'm Muggle born too!" the other girl replied quickly.

"Oh? What do they do for a living?"

The frizzy-haired girl smiled and replied, "They're dentists."

In no time at all, the train finally left. After about an hour, Integra noticed Draco Malfoy walking past. The blonde girl narrowed her eyes slightly in anger.

"Who was that?" Hermione asked.

"Draco Malfoy. A pureblood wizard with airs." Integra didn't continue until the other girls questioning look prodded her to it. "He believes that if you are not born of Wizarding blood that you are less than him."

Hermione seemed to think deeply upon it, but did not speak of whatever she thought.

The rest of the trip was uninteresting except for the treats and snacks. Integra only bought a modest amount, while Hermione just looked on after she explained that her parents were very strict on treats for the most part. Being dentists and all.

In no time at all it seemed it was evening and the train had arrived at the Hogwarts train stop. They were directed by a huge man into small boats. For some reason, no seemed willing to sit with Integra and Hermione.

Soon they were across the lake towards the castle with only the scare of nearly losing one boy who managed to fall out of his boat. The boats entered a cave beneath Hogwarts and the giant, shaggy man handed them off to a strict looking older woman who led them upstairs.

After a quick fright of ghosts (where Integra nearly pulled out her 9mm pistol) they waited to enter into the main hall.

by Arthur Hansen

After Professor McGonagall's introduction about the houses of Hogwarts and what it entailed, the First Years were led into the great hall. Soon they were lined up in front of everyone, staring at the incongruous hat sitting on a stool.

It suddenly broke out into song, singing a ditty about the school and the houses. All of the older students clapped politely at the end. It even bowed to each of the tables!

"Abbott, Hannah," the professor said.

The girl walked up and the hat was put on her head, almost immediately to shout, "Hufflepuff!"

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" a bright red-haired boy whispered to another up the line. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Soon it was up to, "Granger, Hermione!" She was quickly sorted into Gryffindor, one of her two top preferences.

The whole room seemed stunned just a bit later by, "Hellsing, Integra."

The hat was plopped onto her head, where she heard the hat speaking softly. Well, that's quite the mind you have there. Quite a bit of cunning, too. Most definitely a lot of loyalty, but by far the greater courage you hold. Better make it, Gryffindor! it shouted.

The room just sat there silently, only a single clap of appreciation (from Hermione) for her as she walked over to sit next to her new friend. The rest of the Gryffindors weren't quite sure what to make of her at this point. Rumors had been spreading like lightning all day on the train. She didn't look nearly as threatening as some of the Slytherins seemed to be making her out to be.

Not too many moments later, the whole room lit up in whispers again when, "Potter, Harry!" was called up. The hat seemed to have a hard time with him, but finally shouted out Gryffindor, too. There was much cheering and yelling about from Gryffindor about how they, "...got Potter! We got Potter!"

Soon the Headmaster stood up and spoke some truly nonsensical words that meant absolutely nothing, as far as Integra and Hermione could determine.

At that, the feast was served. Plates filled themselves magically. Everyone started to eat with gusto. The red-haired boy from earlier almost stuffing his face.

Suddenly the noise broke down around a rather remarkable thing. People craned their heads to look over and quiet spread across the hall. Even the professors listened intently.

"...let this food strengthen thy servant and may the forces of darkness be destroyed in thy name, to protect Queen and Country. AMEN." Her voice had not been raised at any point in her prayer, but by the time it had finished, the entire room could hear her entreaties to God. Without ado, she picked up a napkin and then started eating.

A couple of the Muggle born muttered, "Amen," purely by reflex.

With a stoicism that seemed unrivaled, Integra continued to daintily eat her supper.

Suddenly, as if remembering that they could, whispers erupted across the room. None more intense than those at the head table.

"Y-Yes, this turban was given to me by an African prince for ridding him of a zombie. He was v-very grateful!" Professor Quirrell.

Integra just stared along with all of the students in shocked dismay. This was the one class that she thought was not going to be waste of time and effort. She spared an incredulous look at her friend Hermione.

"Did you immobilize the zombie and then burn the body?" she asked after raising her hand.

"Well, no. I didn't d-d-destroy it. I just b-b-banished it." The professor seemed quite nervous.

Integra looked confused. "But zombies are created by evil wizards to do something specific. You have to either destroy it or find out what its focus is."

Quirrell's eyes narrowed harshly for just a second, then became their normal fearful disposition again. "You are q-q-quite right, M-M-Miss Hellsing. I m-managed to d-d-divine t-that it was sent t-to recover an amulet. T-Two points for Gryffindor."

"Ah! I see!" Integra narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "May I ask a question not related to the lesson?"

"C-Certainly!" Quirrell did not actually look very happy about this.

"Why do you have so much garlic around?"

Hermione smiled at this. It was obviously because of vampires. Really.

"Miss G-Granger knows! Why d-don't you answer?" the professor said while pointing out her.

"To ward off vampires!" Hermione said gleefully.

"That is ridiculous! That won't do anything more than annoy even just a ghouled vampire. A full blown vampire will just take a clove of garlic from you a take a bite out of it!" Integra couldn't believe this bullock. "Even worse it tells the vampire that you are hunting it!"

"Miss Hellsing! I am the professor and I believe I know what I am teaching!" he snapped out peevishly.

The class blinked in surprise. That was not quite the response they had expected.

"I m-mean t-that it has n-n-nothing t-to do with today's lessons," Quirrell continued querulously. "A-As you c-c-come from a M-Muggle family, you m-must trust that s-s-some of your previous information may be... inaccurate."

The blonde girl narrowed her eyes as she sat down. She would not make a spectacle here, but this bore greater scrutiny. Soon the class was let out. Unlike all of the other classes, Quirrell has assigned no homework that involved any beginning spellwork.

"Integra?" Hermione called as they both walked towards the main hall for lunch.

"Yes, Hermione?" she replied.

"You don't believe Professor Quirrell at all, do you?" the frizzy-haired girl asked shrewdly.

"Of course not. The vampires started that rumor about garlic themselves. Several of my ancestors were killed before they figured that out. I expected that the Wizarding world would have better information." The disdain almost dripped from her voice.

"Well, why don't we research vampires in the library then? That way we can see what they do say!" Hermione just smiled at her friend.

"That's not a bad idea." Integra lowered her voice. "I'm sorry I can be so temperamental about some things."

by PsyckoSama

Integra and Hermione entered their next class, Double Potions with Slytherin, and took their seats. The classroom was almost stereotypical. A dank dungeon, walls lined with bottles containing all kinds of strange substances, chemistry sets sitting besides caldrons…

Integra looked over to her new found friend. "Hermione, the only thing this classroom needs is a Tesla Coil. Looks like a bloody movie set, and cheap one at that."

Hermione along with several of the other muggle-born, and halfblood students, including Harry Potter, snickered at the joke.

"May I ask what is so funny?" growled Professor Snape as he walked to the front of the class, and glared at everyone present. Under his wilting gaze, all laughter immediately stopped.

He glanced around the room and scowled.

"Harry Potter and Integra Wingates-Hellsing." he stated coolly, "Our new celebrities."

Malfoy, and his two stooges began to snicker behind their hands, but wilted under Integra's own death-glare.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making. Fame… and infamy have no bearing here. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death…" he paused dramatically, then continued. "If you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Below Integra, Ron and Harry just glanced at each other. Next to the Hellsing heir, Hermione was on edge, obviously pumped up to prove that she was not a dunderhead, and Integra? She rolled her eyes at the melodramatics.

"Potter!" Snape snarled. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Hermione's hand shot up like a rocket.

Harry gulped, "I… I don't know, sir?"

"Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything."

He ignored Hermione's hand.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"I don't know, sit."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

Potter scowled but said nothing.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

Integra scowled, and dragged her friend back into her seat with a scowl.

"Hermione," she hissed, "Sit down."

"But I know the answer…"

"You're making a fool of yourself," Integra replied, "You're the only person with their hand up. He can see you, he is just not choosing to. Act dignified."

Hermione opened her mouth as if to respond, but spied a glance at the rest of the class and nodded. She settled back into her seat, but did not put down her hand.

"Miss Hellsing," Snape coolly stated, "Since you have taken it into your hands to interrupt this class, perhaps you can answer the question."

Integra sighed. "Both monkshood and wolfsbane are the common name for the same poisonous flower."

Snape smiled thinly. "Very good… Now here is an easy question. How is wolfsbane used in the hunting of werewolves?"

Integra scoffed. "Simple. It's not."

Snape grinned. If she didn't know better she'd think he was baiting her on. "Oh really?"

"Simple," Integra replied, "While it does contain some magical properties, wolfsbane is not significantly more toxic to werewolves than it is to humans. The reason why is it called wolfsbane is because werewolves find the scent repellent and refuse to approach the blossoms." She paused and added, "Theoretically it could be used to make an anti-werewolf toxin, but frankly, a MP5 with a full magazine of hollow tipped silver rounds will terminate the foul creature far more efficiently."

Snape smirked, highly amused. "I see not all fame is unwarranted. One point to Gryffindor for Miss Hellsing's rather accurate exposé on the use of wolfsbane in lycanthropic pest-control."

Integra smiled, before Snape's expression turned as dower as it was before. "Now, care to answer the other questions?"

Integra shook her head. "I do not know the answers. I am from a family of monster hunters, not alchemists."

Snape frowned but nodded. "Very well… Miss Granger, since you've been so patiently awaiting a chance to speak I'll let you answer the question..."

by Bastet's Chosen

Integra found her target in the library. Harry Potter sat at one table, surrounded by books. Professor Snape's punishment assignment for Harry's inability to answer a question about the proper pickling of toad livers was to find ten sleeping droughts no longer used and report why they fell out of use. As the librarian appeared to be tasked less with aiding research and more with ensuring the books remained in the condition the students initially found them, the assignment was fare more difficult than the equivalent would be in a more mundane school. Integra sat in the chair next to Harry. He looked up, then quickly buried himself in the book he was reading while sidling his chair away from him.

"Is it that I'm just that repulsive," she asked, "or do you fear I'll suddenly leap at you and snap your neck?" Harry's actions were expected; his avoidance of her was what prompted this conversation.

"Look," Harry responded, "I've got to figure out this report. I'm just a commoner and have to do well in school if I want to succeed, okay?"

"What does- oh!" Realization bloomed in Integra's mind. "Have you been thinking of my encounter with that blighter Malfoy in the tailor's shop for all this time?"

Harry hesitantly nodded.

"Honestly," Integra sighed. "Harry, I promise not to lord my birth rank over you if you don't lord yours over me." Integra could see the momentary confusion on Harry's face as his first thought was to protest that he didn't have any birth rank, as well as the sudden realization what her promise meant if he couldn't lord it over her.

"Okay," Harry agreed, "but Draco didn't-"

"He was being an ass," Integra interrupted. "More than an ass, as he was a commoner claiming the superiority of his blood. Besides, you're a better person than many peers of the realm."

"Me?" Harry asked dubiously.

"You," Integra replied. "It is why I wanted to know why you avoided me. Good men should seek each other out and work together; the godly have an edge over evil because they need not fear betrayal from a true heart."

"I'm not really religious," Harry said.

"Given what Ronald has said of your aunt and uncle, I find it no surprise they possess little piety and failed to see to your spiritual education. I would not be surprised to learn they were Roman Catholics, even. But your inner spiritual compass has shone through despite your lack of instruction. Some would say your virtue is more impressive due to your lack of role models and encouragement."

"I never did anything special," Harry protested.

"It is exactly that denial I speak of," Integra responded. "You could have become proud or revealed in your celebrity once you learned of it. It would have been understandable for you to bask in the attention after the treatment you received. Instead you eschew any credit for the defeat of Voldemort."

"But I didn't do anything," Harry said.

"See?" Integra replied. "You feel that are not responsible for Voldemort's downfall, and I believe you. I believe that Voldemort was struck low by the hand of God, possibly with you acting as His earthly agent.

by PsyckoSama

Integra sat down and lifted one of the books off of Harry's stack.

Harry blinked in surprise, but moved over slightly to give her room

She opened to the back and groaned, "Haven't these damned wizards ever heard of an index?"

"What are you doing?" he asked.

She glanced over to him and smiled. "I am going to help you research. You are my friend after all."

He smiled brightly at being called 'friend'. "Thank you, Integra. I really mean that. I never had any friends before I came to Hogwarts."

Integra nodded. "I only went to upper class all-girls schools before I came here." She paused, "And I didn't have any friends either."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Harry, I think you out of everyone here knows best what it is like to be different. To have circumstances out of your control make you just DIFFERENT than everyone else," She paused for a moment. "All the girls at that those schools are little spoiled brats. All they want is to do is lord over everyone else, spend money, be told great they are… they do not and cannot understand me. They could never comprehend what my family's duty is…"

Harry blinked. "I've been wondering that, Integra. Everyone seems to be afraid of you because you're a Hellsing. Why is that? Whenever I ask they all act like I'm talking about… you know who."

Integra scoffed. "Do you mean Voldimort?" she replied, a little too loudly.

There were several gasps as all eyes turned to her.

Integra rolled her eyes and looked at Harry. She was speaking to him, but did so loud enough that everyone could hear. "Harry, being afraid to say someone's name gives that person power over you. I refuse to live in fear of a simple name, to give someone that kind of power over me… do you want to give the bastard who murdered your parents that kind of dominion over you?"

Harry scowled. "Of course not!"

She smiled. "Good. Name are powerful. Names can bind and banish evils and demons. They can give you great strength as well, because if you know what it is you know it. If you know it, then you can find the strength to defeat it. Do not be afraid to say his name. Just because everyone else is a coward does not mean you have to be."

Harry smiled. He was standing a little taller, a little prouder. It was as if what Integra had said had an effect. "Why do they talk about your family like they do Voldemort?"

"My family line began in the last 16th century, in Holland. We were called the Von Helsing at the time. We were hunters of monsters and demons… my family history is very illustrious but I can tell you the details later. It was the actions of my great great grandfather, Abraham van Helsing who made us what we are today." She laughed, "It was serendipity really… he helped defeat a famous vampire, one you have doubtlessly heard of…"

Harry shook his head. "No, I don't know anything about the wizarding world, like famous vampires…"

Integra shook her head. "Harry, do not be an idiot. I am talking about Count Dracula."

Harry gawked. "Your great great grandfather beat DRACULA?!"

She nodded. "Yes… one of the survivors of Dracula's savagery was a woman named Mina Murray. Some years after the attack, she became a member of a group of intrepid adventurers called the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. At the same time supernatural menace was being to rear its ugly head in the empire. The League was sent many times to deal with these oddities, but they were not suited for fighting the terrors of the night… Knowing this, Mina found Abraham van Helsing once again, and asked him to come with her and speak to the Queen."

Integra smiled. "He spoke to great lengths to her majesty about the threats. He told her that the best way to control the supernatural was to know it, and to be forever ready to destroy if should it be a threat. She hired him, and tasked to him creating and leading a secret army of hunters to protect the crown, church, and country from any supernatural threat. Because of his deeds in the name of the crown, she eventually granted him the title of lord, beginning the modern history of my family."

Harry nodded. "Then why are you 'Hellsing' now?"

She shrugged. "Changed it during World War I. It sounded too German."

"Oh, I see… so that's why you didn't have any friends?"

She nodded. "Yes. They cannot understand what it's like. I am going to grow up and I am going to be tasked with protecting England from things most people only see in their nightmares."

"I think I understand."

She smiled. "Thank you Harry… now, why didn't you have any friends?"

Harry sighed. "You've heard about my aunt and uncle, right?"

She nodded.

"They made me sleep in a cupboard under the stairs, and I had to wear my cousin Dudley's old hand-me-downs… and he's twice my size. Dudley and his friends would beat me up and make fun of anyone would talk to me."

Integra scowled. "It is absolutely abhorrent that people such as those should be you guardians! You are a good person, Harry Potter, far to virtuous to be punished with such suffering… "

Harry sighed. "What other choice is there… who else will take me in?"

Integra though for a moment and stood up, her face a very mask of determination. "Come Harry, I need use of your Owl."

He blinked. "Why? I have to do this report!"

She grinned. "The report can wait! I just had an idea!"

He blinked. "What?"

"I am going to ask my father if you may stay with us while you are not in school!"

He gawked. "Really… but… but I don't want to be a bother!"

"Nonsense!" She looked to him with a smile. "I live in a mansion, Harry. A castle even. We have guest rooms that have not been occupied for decades! We have room to spare in spades! Boarding you over vacations will be anything but a trouble!"

Harry just stood in place, speechless. "I don't know how to thank you…"

She smiled. "I look out for my friends, Harry, and I see something special in you…"

"Thank you, Integra…"

by Bastet's Chosen

Dear Father,

I hope this letter finds you well. I open this letter with the admission you have surely been awaiting: I was in error upon the matter of magic. The wizards are not, as a class, heathens and their studies are not heresy. As you stated, the study and practice of magic appears to be as secular as that of the sword.

I fear that the society of the wizards is even more impressed with its own importance than that of normal men. Like many of the powerful, they concentrate upon their own abilities and neglect the greater, subtler power of the Lord Almighty. Fortunately, most of their lackadaisical piety is directed towards the Church of England, and I believe that any misguided souls that nominally look to the Pope for guidance accept our Queen, anointed by God, as their true sovereign and feel no fealty to the Bishop of Rome.

Curiously, despite the obvious advantage of the powerful over the less gifted, the wizards have created a demi-nobility of certain families that act with all the pomp and entitlement of the worst of our peerage. I recommend to you, Father, an investigation of any Malfoy you encounter. If the relatives are at all like the one currently enrolled at this school, you shall find, God willing, matters that require the close scrutiny of our order.

However, all is not grim. Many of my classmates find their piety weak not through wrongheadedness, but because they have sadly been denied contact with the Church. I have befriended one such boy. Father, I can feel your smile as I write this and I emphasize that while he is a boy and he is my friend, he is not my boyfriend.

Harry's parents died defending him from the dark sorcerer Voldemort. Harry, an infant, not only survived, but Voldemort did not. The wizards all credit Harry with the dark wizard's defeat, but Harry disclaims any part in it. His actions are those of a humble man, Father, and he seeks to avoid his notoriety. I believe that the Lord God intervened, saving Harry, perhaps in response to the prayers of his dying mother and to those of all righteous peoples of England who opposed this menace. I wish you to understand that Harry is a bright and worthy soul.

Despite the words of praise from the wizards, Harry has seen little else of their gratitude. He currently resides with his maternal aunt, her husband, and their son; all are muggles. Father, the treatment he has received from his own blood is such that any good man would intervene if he saw it visited upon a dog, let alone a person. Harry is treated as a drudge, which is bad enough. However, his so-called guardians go further, forcing him to make his bed in a cabinet beneath the stairs so that their own son may occupy multiple rooms. This son, Dudley, is encouraged to visit physical, verbal, and mental abuse upon Harry, and has succeeded in cowing any of Harry's peers who might come to his aid or report the situation through the threat of physical force. Lastly, and perhaps most disturbingly, Harry can count the number of times he has been within a church on the fingers of one hand! (I must admit, Father, I take an inappropriate satisfaction in Harry's lack of religious instruction, for he is a good person and I would wish that goodness spoilt by heresy, for surely the Dursleys, his relatives, are Roman Catholic.)

As your daughter and a creature of God I saw the injustice in Harry's situation and feel moved to right it. However, I lack the means to see to Harry's welfare and thus I must ask you, Father, if you would see fit to arrange for Harry to join our household as your ward. May the Lord God grant you wisdom.

With all my love,

Integra

Integra's father smiled as he finished reading the letter. He knew that his daughter would bloom when faced with the unfamiliar setting of Hogwarts. She also had a good point about Potter, for she could only be describing Harry Potter. Taking him in would be the Christian thing to do. He quickly wrote a note to Dumbledore asking for the full name and address of Harry's guardian. If Integra was not mistaken, then it would be simple enough to make Harry his ward.

"Walter," Sir Hellsing called out, "take this letter to the mews and have it sent by owl to Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts." Walter, entering the room in response to his master's bellow, took the proffered letter and departed.

The response came later that day, and was not what Sir Hellsing expected.

"Mister Dumbledore is at the door and asks to see you," Walter announced.

"See him in," Sir Hellsing responded. The old wizard soon was inside the office, and the two powerful men shook hands.

"Thank you for seeing me without an appointment," Dumbledore began. "I've come in response to your letter."

"You're too kind," Sir Hellsing responded. "I expected such a routine matter to be handled by your secretary."

"I find it best to see to matters dealing with certain students, such as your daughter and Harry Potter, myself. I must inquire why you are interested in the Dursleys."

"It is simple enough; if they are as bad as my daughter has reported to me, then I intend to supplant them as Harry's guardian. The boy doesn't deserve such treatment."

"No, he does not," Dumbledore agreed, and sighed heavily. "However, it is in his best interests to remain with them. While outside Hogwarts Harry is very vulnerable to the Death Eaters. However, when he was just a babe, I placed an ancient set of wards upon him. As long as Harry resides in the home of his muggle blood, he cannot be harmed by Voldemort's supporters. I do not believe I could prevent Harry from becoming your ward. However, you must now see why it would be best to leave things as they are."

"Basic Christian goodness compels me to do something," Sir Hellsing protested, "but you have my word Harry shall continue to dwell in the same home as the Dursleys." That seemed to satisfy Dumbledore, who, after a few pleasantries, left the office. Presumably he used the door because the manor's defenses prevented him from teleporting away, but possibly merely out of politeness.

"Well," Sir Hellsing muttered, "if Harry cannot leave his relative's' home, that home will have to move here, then. Walter!" The butler entered immediately after his name was called. "Investigate these Dursleys for me. Have one of the guest cottages prepared for extended occupation, and see to the creation of a contract that through the cottage, a new job, and our own prestige, Mr. Dursley will not refuse. Make sure that it includes handing control over Harry's upbringing to me, and the loss of the job, and house, and various penalties for breaking the contract will ensure that these Dursley will remain caught once they enter our web."

by PsyckoSama

Integra stood outside, along with her fellow Gryffindor first years, as well as the first year Slytherins. Today they were going to learn how to ride a broomstick.

Lord Christ Almighty! What could be more stereotypical than a witch on a broom? It was so bad in fact that Integra was in half a mind to send for some wart remover, just incase.

Still, bravado aside, she was nervous. She'd never even lifted even a normal broom before. How was she expected to fly on a broom of all things? Looked damn uncomfortable…

Still, on the bright side, she was not the only one with frayed nerves. Hermione seemed apprehensive, Harry seemed somewhat unsure, and Neville's grandmother had apparently never even let him near a broom useful for more than sweeping.

Of course, for every nervous person there seemed to be someone full of piss and vinegar. Ron has amusing but unlikely tales of adventure on his broom, while that insufferable prat, Malfoy kept ranting on and one about his ability, and bitching and moaning that first year students were forbidden from playing a game called "Quidditch". All the students from wizard families spoke at great, excessive length on the subject.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" Madam Hooch barked, interrupting her train of thought. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Integra did as she was told, but seemed less than excited. For Christ stakes, it was a bloody broom. Why couldn't they be something impressive, or at least something bloody cool, like 'jet-bike' from Star Wars? She'd take that over a silly broom any day of the week!

She looked down at her broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

This was bloody ridiculous.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!"

She sighed, and along with everyone else, she said, "Up…"

Her broom lifted but not to a level where she could grab it. She glanced over to see the other's progress. As expected, Ron and the git's brooms were both summoned to their hands, as, surprisingly enough, was Harry's. Hermione's was moving on the ground while Neville' remained on the ground dead still.

She reflected that maybe brooms could read their masters, like horses. If they sense fear and apprehension, maybe they don't respect you… though that might be giving too much credit to an overqualified sweeping tool.

"Up…" she repeated with a yawn.

The broom lifted a little more but seemed to be in no rush to come to a useful level.

She scowled. "Up, you overglorified feather duster before I snap your stick, and use your twigs for kindling!"

The broom jumped into her hands, with a very stiff jerk. She glanced about the field, and all eyes were locked upon her.

With a shrug, she remarked, "I guess you just need to know how to talk to them…"

Everyone laughed at her statement. Even Madam Hooch smiled.

"Now then, time to mount your brooms…" Madam Hooch stated, before giving them an example of how to do so without sliding off the end.

Along with Harry and Ron, she laughed hysterically when Madam Hooch corrected, Malfoy, telling him he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle… one… two… "

But Neville, as nervous and jumpy as ever, and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before Madam Hooch blew her whistle..

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was flying straight up like a bottle rocket. Integra saw his terrified face as he looked at the ground, and slip.

WHAM!

Neville hit the ground with a thud and a nasty crack. He lay face down in the grass in a heap. Integra's heart skipped a beat in terror.

Though she'd only known him for a little while, she'd grown to like Neville Longbottom. He was a sweet boy, had a spine made out of Jello, but she could see in his eyes a hidden courage. She had sworn to herself to drag him out of his box for his own good, kicking and screaming if she had to.

She clamped her hand together and began to silently pray to the lord almighty for the boy's safety. She hoped with all her heart that the snap had not been his neck.

"Broken wrist…" she heard Madam Hooch state, her face as pale as Neville's.

Integra gasped in relief. Looking to the sky she mouthed, "Thank you.".

Madam Hooch helped Neville to his feet and looked him in the eyes. "It will be alright boy… Up you go."

She turned to the rest of the class and scowled.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with

Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

"It is called having human concern for a fellow," Integra nonchalantly replied, "Not that you would know anything about being human, you great ape."

Parry sneered but Malfoy just laughed. "I saw you praying, Hellsing. I can't believe that they let someone naive enough to actually think there is an invisible man in the sky into Hogwarts!"

Integra sneered, and would have likely assaulted him right there and then if it was not for Hermione grabbing her arm.

"Integra, he's not worth it!"

Integra sneered, "Maybe you're right. He's worthless."

Malfoy's face twisted with rage, but a grin came to his face.

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch.

Malfoy smiled nastily.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find… how about… up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry yelled.

Integra pulled herself out of her friends grasp and began to approach Malfoy with all the menace that an eleven year old girl could manage.

In a low, hateful voice, she growled, "Now."

With a laugh, Malfoy leapt onto his broomstick and took off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak he called, "Come and get it, Potter, and your girlfriend can come too.!"

Both Integra and Harry grabbed their brooms.

"No!" shouted Hermione, "Madam Hooch told us not to move… you'll get us all into trouble."

"Hermione," Integra stated coolly, "There are times when you must stand up for yourself and what you know is right. I will not abide a would be petty tyrant."

Hermione stepped back in surprise, while the other Gryffindors shared statements of affirmation.

Both Harry and Integra kicked off as one. Harry flew gracefully through the air toward their target, while Integra realized that she was having trouble maneuvering the thing.

Harry jerked his stick around, cutting Malfoy off while Integra came to an unsure stop behind him. Being more focused on not falling than making threats, Integra let Harry do the talking.

"Give it here," Harry called, "or we'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, sneered, and in a barely audible voice, added, "I'd be more worried about your little mudblood girlfriend there falling off and breaking something."

Integra's vision turned blood red, and she began to boil in her skin with rage. He DARED claim that she had DIRTY BLOOD!?

She roared in anger and shot toward Malfoy like a Javelin.

Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady.

A few people below were clapping, not knowing how badly Integra wanted to KILL him.

"You're outnumbered, and there is no Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called.

The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.

"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.

"Get it! He's mine" Integra roared at Harry.

Being one to take a hint, Harry jetted right off after the ball, while Integra slowly came about. For some reason, controlling the broom seemed so much easier when she had other things on her mind.

Like Murder.

"Now, peasant, it is just you and me…" He eyes narrowed, "Now, what did you call me?" Malfoy looked into Integra's chilling blue eyes, and gulped.

Showing his true colors, he bolted. Integra shot off after him like a rocket.

The two entered a deadly aerial dance. Malfoy was unable to shake her, but at the same time Integra lacked the skill to do more than stay on his tail. After a moment, s realized that she'd have to find another way.

Slowly a smile came to her face. She had an idea.

She reached into her robe, and felt the coolness of gunmetal. She wished she could just shoot the blighter, but it was self defense only. Her hand moved to her wand and she whipped it out.

She only knew a few basic spells, but they'd do just fine.

Wingardium Leviosa!

Integra levitated a large rock from the ground, and into the path of Malfoy's broom, or more precisely, his face. Draco hit the stone like a bullet, and fell to earth with a screech of terror.

He hit the ground arm first with a loud snap and rolled for another 10 feet before coming to a stop.

Draco howled with pain, his arm bent at an unnatural angle while she could clearly see blood streaming from his likely broken nose.

With a victorious smile, she returned to the other first years.

by Bastet's Chosen

Draco Malfoy looked up at Professor Snape. Madam Pomfrey had returned him back to health, but he would rather have spent some additional time in the infirmary and given the head of his house time to cool off. Unfortunately, he had been discharged despite his complaints about pain and needing time to recover from a serious injury. "Do you recall," he asked dryly, "the lecture I delivered on your first night in Hogwarts?"

"Yes sir," Draco replied, puzzled.

"What will I not tolerate?" Snape continued.

"The stupid and the inept," Draco answered, frowning.

"Correct. Now, can you explain why what you did was stupid, or are you utterly hopeless."

"I didn't check to see if a professor had come."

"Mr. Malfoy, while you certainly made a mistake in getting caught, that is not what I was referring to. I also don't expect someone you're evidently poor wit to realize why it was blindingly obvious Miss Hellsing would confront you. No, that much would be more than you could deduce. However, even one of your distinctly limited faculties should have realized the importance of avoiding antagonizing young Miss Hellsing."

"She's a dirty mudblood," Draco protested.

"Yes she is," Snape agreed sardonically. "Neither her mother nor her father can use magic. However, seeing as her father is the head of the Hellsing agency, a wise person might not mention it to her face. But perhaps you don't believe in respecting family connections," Snape's tone was extremely dry. "Even so, one would have thought you would consider that Miss Hellsing will someday hold the position her father now holds. A position that many would consider only slightly less powerful than that of the Minister of Magic. Perhaps you thought that others would wonder at your power and confidence because you offended such a girl so casually. If that was your intention, then it was incredibly stupid. Hopefully you're just amazingly thoughtless."

Draco bristled. Sure, Hellsing might seem like an important organization to a school teacher, but all they really did was clean up what the aurors missed. No one should speak to him this way, not with his family, not with his father's power.

"I think I'll hold off on deciding your punishment," Snape continued, "until the end of the day. What I choose, and how I choose to deliver it, will depend upon what steps you take to mitigate your offense. You can expect that whatever I decide it will mitigate any Hellsing hostility towards this House and myself that you have failed to deal with."

Integra silently thanked God that Professor McGonagall waited until she had dropped Harry off with the Quidditch team and they were alone before she disciplined Integra.

"Miss Hellsing, I understand that you were provoked, and Mr. Malfoy had taken another student's property," Professor McGonagall began. "Because of that I am inclined to be lenient. However, you assaulted a fellow student; one that, from the complaints he was spewing, is not going to just let the matter drop. Harry I can let off without any formal punishment, as he wasn't involved in the attack, but you will have to be disciplined. In the future, you should seek out a teacher if another student is misbehaving. We cannot have the students assailing each other over every imagined slight or infraction of the rules."

"So I am to be punished only for the assault itself?" Integra asked neutrally.

"I'm afraid so, dear. I'm going to have to strip twenty points from Gryffindor."

"Professor McGonagall, I must respectfully submit that you have no authority to discipline me upon that matter," Integra countered calmly.

"What are you talking about?" McGonagall asked, traces of irritation creeping into her voice.

"I am the heir to the Hellsing organization and thus a member," Integra explained. "The terms of the Hellsing charter from the Crown is quite clear. As the strong arm of the Church of England and the Lord, we are to deal with the supernatural menaces that threaten the subjects of the British Empire. However, we are also specifically tasked in the charter with dealing with heretics, pagans, and blasphemers. Draco Malfoy referred to both the Church of England and the Lord Almighty with a tone of disrespect and derision, and he was punished for it. Only my superior in Hellsing, my father, may punish me for my actions."

"Child, you will not have me believing that Hellsing hunts down every person that disrespects your religion," McGonagall countered. Integra shrugged.

"It is a tolerant time, and we do not pursue or punish such as a rule, even the Papists have simmered down into a grudging tolerance. However, such kindness should not be taken as licence. It has been decades since a person blasphemed in the presence of a Hellsing, and they were never able to speak again. Mr. Malfoy suffered slightly, in comparison. I will, of course, write my father and explain what happened and await his judgement. You are welcome to append your own comments and recommendations, of course."

Professor McGonagall sighed. "No child, I believe you'll tell the entire tail. I do want to know what your father's rely is, however. I guess I'll just have to let you off with a warning," the professor's tone had become light. Integra stifled a smile; she had guessed that the professor hadn't wanted to punish her. "I must insist, and this is not flexible," the tone was steel hard, now, "that you, at a minimum, discuss any further actions in your capacity as a member of Hellsing with Headmaster Dumbledore. The only exception is if it is a matter of life or limb."

by PsyckoSama

Integra Wingates-Hellsing was somewhat distracted as she entered the Hogwarts Owlery. Harry had offered her Hedwig to deliver the letter.

She smiled. While she did not have an owl of her own, opting not to bring an animal to the school, Harry had given her free use of his wonderful bird whenever she needed to send a letter.

She'd developed a bit of a rapport with the bird. It was obviously quite intelligent as well as friendly, and rather affectionate. Every day at breakfast it stopped by to, for lack of a better word, cuddle with her owner and nab a bite of toast. She'd also began stopping to see Integra as well to snag a bite of kipper and maybe for a short conversation.

It made Integra laugh. The bird seemed to understand what she could say and reacted accordingly. The wonders never cease.

"Hedwig," she called, "I have a letter I would like you to send, if it's not going to be any trouble..."

The bird swooped from her perch and landed on one closer to Integra. The Hellsing heir immediately reached out and rubbed the bird under its beak, rousing a contented hoot, and a playful nip on the finger.

She smiled and held out the letter. "Its another for my father," she stated.

The bird cocked its head inquisitively.

"You want to know why I'm sending it?"

The Owl bobbed its head in affirmation.

"I had an... altercation with a despicable Slytherin named Draco Malfoy. I threw him from a broom. Due to circumstance I am to contact my father for punishment,"

The owl hooted indignity.

Integra sighed, "I know... I acted improperly."

Hedwig shook her head.

"Not that? What then..." she paused for a moment, "Did you mean Malfoy?"

The bird hooted in affirmation.

Integra laughed, "Don't tell me, do you owls see him as an insufferable prat as well?"

Hedwig bobbed her head once more.

Integra smiled and petted the owl's head before writing a little note on the back of her the envelope, and holding out the letter.

"When you deliver this, wait a moment. I have asked my father to give you a kipper. For your troubles."

Hedwig hooted happily and took off with the letter in claw.

With that done with, Integra sighed and began to leave. What she'd written was totally honest. She knew damn well that she'd broken the rules of the school, and while it was within her right as a Hellsing, and in her mind perfectly justifiable, she knew that he father would give her a punishment.

He was a fair and honest man, and Integra guessed that he'd recommend that she receive a light but humbling punishment, along with a letter stating his disappointment.

She was glad, it had all been worth punishing that bastard for calling her a mudblood but he'd rather receive a personal punishment than twenty points from Gryffindor. She could handle being reprimanded for her actions, but it was a stain on her honor for her house to be punished for her misdeeds.

Draco was furious. How dare a mere school teacher treat him like that!

He scoffed. And over what? A bloody little mudblood and her muggle family! How could any self-respecting wizard, especially a pureblood rumored to have been a servant of Lord Voldemort no less, fear a bunch of muggles! It was ridiculous!

That was why he was owling his father. His father was a true wizard, and not a coward who was afraid of some pathetic muggles like Snape!

Oh, in his letter he told his father all about what happened, and how the little bitch attacked him! Surely his father, being a pureblood of great status, would have more powerful than a muggle magical dog-catcher!

His father would deal with the problem! He'd get off, Snape would get the thong thrashing her disserved, and he'd show that mudblood, Integra, a thing or two!" Oh, justice would be served. He knew it!

by Jryu

With some trepidation, Integra opened the letter her father had sent in reply to her own.

Integra Wingates Hellsing, I am most disappointed in you.

Not even there a full week, and already, I find you in trouble. And not only getting into trouble, but abusing your position as a Hellsing to try and get out of it. You know better than to invoke Hellsing privileges over what someone says! You are supposed to be above that, young lady!

I can not fault you for why you felt the need to take action. But actions have consequences, and it would have been far better to have accepted Professor McGonagall punishment, rather than involve me in this debacle.

To that end... if I ever hear of you invoking the Hellsing privileges for anything less than a clear and present danger to yourself or your classmates again, I will be most cross. I have already written the Headmaster, and McGonagall directly, informing them that they should inform me straight away of any future attempts to do so on your part. And, should there be any more frivolous attempts, then I will physically go over to Hogwarts, and dress you down in person. In front of all your classmates. I hope we understand each other here, daughter.

Now, as to your punishment. Doubtless, McGonagall had intended to suffice with just a few days of detention or some such. But for this, you are not so lucky any more. I'm sure by now you have seen Mr. Rubeus Hagrid, the groundskeeper. I am sure he will be quite happy when he learns that, until the winter break, you will be assisting him in his duties, in addition to your schoolwork. He'll be giving me weekly reports himself, Integra, and if I am not satisfied with what he tells me, I am sure I can find some other method to impress the seriousness of this situation.

Now that that is over, I have some other news. I have looked into your request regarding Harry. I am very pleased that you are making friends, even if he is not a 'boyfriend.' However, it seems there is more to this situation than just a case of the lad having a belligerent family life. It seems there is some kind of protective spell involved, which requires that he spend time living with blood relations to be maintained.

I do understand that, with the enemies that the boy possesses, the spell is a necessary thing. This means that we can not simply have him live in the mansion over the summer, however much we may want to. That does not mean we can do nothing, though. Rest assured, I have already taken steps to ensure that by the time next summer comes, his living situation will be much improved. I will tell you more as the situation pans out.

Also... I know the name of Malfoy. I've... met the boy's father, even. While I firmly suspect that he, at least, is a true villain, I have no evidence on which I might act. I've kept our informants eyes and ears open for any word, but until such time, our hands are tied.

I do love you, daughter, and hope our future correspondence will be of a less serious nature.

Love,

William Frederick Hellsing III

Integra breathed a sigh of relief. She had been worried that her father would have been more upset than he was.

Besides, she'd met Hagrid in passing before, and he seemed decent enough. Huge, but decent. How hard could helping him out be?

The summons had been a surprise, but one that Draco had written off as simply being his father being cautious. Normally, a first year wouldn't be allowed to leave Hogwarts, but he was Draco Malfoy, summoned by Lucius Malfoy. Not even Dumbledore would get in the way.

So he left Hogwarts one evening, to meet his father in a private room at Hogsmeade.

And then his world dissolved into pain.

His father had threatened him with the Cruciatus before, but this was the first time Draco had ever actually experienced it. And he wasn't handling it well at all.

Lucius glared down at the whimpering form of his son. "I had high hopes for you, Draco. But it seems you are more like your mother... a moron, at best. I may be able to avoid scrutiny by the aurors, and play Fudge around like a puppet on strings, but I do not need those insipid muggles in Hellsing getting involved in my affairs. And you just practically invited them to take a good close look!"

Grabbing Draco's hair, he pulled back to make sure Draco was looking right at him. "Understand this. You are going to apologize to the little mudblood, no matter how galling the concept may be. And then you are going to avoid the little bitch for the rest of the damn year!"

"Bu..." Draco couldn't stop the his mouth in time.

Lucius let Draco's head drop in disgust. "But? There is no 'But' here, stupid boy! We are not ready to do anything about those damned Hellsing muggles, and have no way to control them. Until we are capable of destroying them, our best defense is to stay out of their scrutiny. All ready I'm going to have to arrange a... distraction... for them. I can not afford to do so indefinitely, however. And since it is apparent that you inherited nothing from me beyond my looks, you are going to just going to play at being a shadow! Do you understand?"

"Ye... ye.."

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, BOY?!"

"Yes, sir!" Draco finally managed, trembling.

Lucius sneered, and nodded. "Good. I trust you won't disappoint me again. And... just to make absolutely certain you remember this... Crucio!"

And Draco's world became pain once again...

by PsyckoSama

Lord William Frederick Hellsing III could barely suppress the scowl as he looked at the thick-necked man that sat before him. Vernon Dursley had apparently gone all out in this meeting, the man's palms were sweaty and he was dressed in a rather second rate tweed jacket. He had all the stench of a classless lout trying to "gussy himself up".

Lord Hellsing had looked over the man's records and history in fine detail and had come up with a two level plan to draw the man into the fold. First, the man was a supplies manager at his drill company and apparently an effective one at that. Hellsing had a high level opening in its logistic department. Outside of the military quarter they always had openings. Most people did not like the idea of working for a need to know organization that haunted the nightmares most people only thought were in story books.

Vernon Dursley both knew about the supernatural and hated it. That could be advantageous, give the man a position where he had an effective paying job and was able to at least indirectly assist in the destruction of monsters and other mystical problems, and he just might enjoy it.

Plan B was nothing more than a threat. If Vernon did not agree he would pull away the carrot and ready the sword. With his friends and allies in the government it would be idiotically simple to cook a trial for corruption and child abuse that would have both Dursleys locked away for a very long time. The threat of sending his son moved to St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys was just the icing on the cake.

Regardless of the method, he would get this lout to do exactly what was asked of him. "Mister Dursley," Lord Hellsing stated calmly, "Do you have any idea why you are here?"

Vernon was sweating slightly and gave his collar a tug. He was nervous.

Good.

"Yes, Lord Hellsing, your servant, Walter told me to come here, something about a job he claimed I was most suited for…"

"Yes… now, what I am about to tell you is need to know only. Loose lips will get you shot. Am I understood?"

He gulped, "Yes sir."

"Good. Now, as you well know there is a world that exists under the veneer of our own society, a world of magical wonders and incredible dangers, of wizards and monsters. Do not deny it; I know your sister-in-law was a witch while your nephew is currently enrolled in Hogwarts."

Vernon Dursley's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, "You're not one of them are you?"

"If by them you mean a wizards, then no," his voice took a more dangerous cast, "But my daughter is a classmate of your nephew and the reason why you are here."

Vernon's expression suddenly became hostile. Maybe the fool had some spine after all.

He could just be useful.

"First let me tell you where here is. You are currently in the headquarters of MI7."

"MI7? I know about MI6 and MI5 but what the bloody hell is MI7"

"We are the Hellsing Organization, the organization tasked with the duty of keeping the magical world in line. When they can no longer properly deal with a situation, their methods are deemed ineffective, or something becomes a direct threat to crown and country, we deal with it. Our operational orders are Search and Destroy."

Vernon's rage dimmed, replaced by a slightly vicious glee. "You mean you kill wizards?"

"And vampires, werewolves, demons, and other such mystical problems."

"And why am I here?" Vernon asked, "I know about them, but can't bloody hunt monsters. I'm not even good at hunting geese!"

"Not everything is about hunting. At your current job, you order drills and if I am not to be mistaken, you are rather good at it."

"I'm the best," Vernon gloated.

"Right… now, do you think you could apply your skills to another field? Say, aiding with the task of keeping a paramilitary organization properly equipped with the special tools required to combat creatures of the night."

"I guess I could, but I rather like my job…"

Lord Hellsing smiled and handed the man a folder. Inside were the details of what he'd get. A small house on the grounds, a 'company car', and a paycheck of roughly 100 thousand pounds a year.

Vernon opened the folder and immediately looked up.

"I'll take it!"

Lord Hellsing nodded "Now, I am warning you now. Your abuse of Harry Potter is absolutely unacceptable and it will end. In intend to take him from your care."

"Then take the little git!" Vernon replied "He's yours!"

Lord Hellsing smiled dangerously, "As much as I'd like to there are complications. It seems that there is a protection spell that requires he spends time living in the same home as his mother's only close blood relation, your wife. That is why we have offered you a house on the grounds themselves. "

Vernon smiled. This had been an exceptional day. Not only way Harry out of his hair for good, but he just got a new job with a large pay raise, a BMW, and a home on a noble estate!

by Bastet's Chosen

His parents had to go.

Draco's return to Hogwarts took much longer than his trip to Hogsmeade. By the time he returned, the pain had completely faded, and a new determination had risen within him. The bonds of loyalty Draco lived his life by had been shattered. His father had not treated him as a pureblood, let alone a family member. He'd been treated like a muggle, like a mudblood, for standing up for the very ideals his father espoused!

A nagging suspicion tore at Draco's thoughts, that his father could care less about blood purity. His father just choose an excuse to treat most of the world like dirt. Like pawns. Like him.

Well, Draco wasn't going to just let it happen. He wasn't going to just sit there and let someone have this power over him. His father had to die for the insult and the pain. His mother was just a bad, she let this happen. Well, maybe Mother didn't know what Father was doing. Maybe she would have stopped him. Maybe she couldn't stop him, because Father was doing it to her too. . .

Or maybe she would be just as bad a Father.

Well, he'd show them. He didn't need his father. Sure, Lucius Malfoy's position commanded respect, but the real power behind the Malfoy name had always been money. If Draco ended up inheriting that money, then he would be the one in control. Of course, in order to pull that off, he'd need allies immune to money's power. Fortunately, his father provided a list of them. Dumbledore and the Weasley family topped the short list; presumably the Hellsing family could be added as well.

The worst part of the entire situation was it meant he'd have to deal with mudbloods and muggle lovers. Still, as long as they understood that the enemy of their enemy was a friend, it could work out. It wasn't like he had to socialize with them.

Dealing with his father would be easy. He just had to disobey the old man and report for another bout of punishment. The bastard would be caught in the act of using an unforgivable curse, and with allies immune to bribery, he'd be convicted and sent to Azkaban. Mother was the problem. How could Draco know how she'd act with Father gone? What is she loved Father more than him? How could he have her killed or arrested? Well, he'd find a way. No one treated Draco Malfoy that way. And once he'd taken care of his parents, then he'd see how he could make Integra Hellsing's life uncomfortable.

by PsyckoSama

Integra Hellsing slowly approached Hagrid's home, behind her followed by Hermione, Harry, and Ron. While it had been her original intention to face her punishment on her own, Harry had insisted on coming with. It seems Hagrid had asked him to come over the day before to tell him about his first week but the report Snape had settled him with had delayed it. Hearing that they were going, of course Hermione and Ron decided to follow.

Integra did not have any idea what to expect but from what she'd seen, and what Harry had described, Hagrid was a kind fellow. A somewhat absent minded and oft oblivious fellow, but a kind one nonetheless.

Hagrid's cottage was relatively small, at least when his size was taken into consideration, and located on the edge of the 'forbidden forest', a wood that apparently held all forms of vile beast. While her family did not clean out the place, she did not know, but she guessed they had their reasons.

She smiled at Harry and motioned him forward. She didn't want to be first in. She was in no rush to start her punishment. Sure, she accepted it as better than dishonoring her house, but still, she was in no rush.

The young boy shrugged and adjusted his glasses, before walking forward. He paused for a moment acknowledging a crossbow and a pair of galoshes that sat by the front door.

Harry's knock was responded to with the sounds of frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Through the thick oaken door, Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang, back."

Moments later, Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yourselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Ron and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

"I guess the dog likes you, Ronald," Integra remarked.

"Bloody hell! Get this monster off of me!"

"So, who are your friends, Harry?" Hagrid asked the boy.

"This is Ron," Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles. "It feels like I've I spent half my life chasing' yer twin brothers away from the forest."

"This is Hermione," Harry continued going onto the next friend down the line.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Hagrid," she stated with a smile.

"And this is…"

"Aye, I know who this is," Hagrid stated with an indignant frown. "She's that Hellsing girl."

Integra scowled. "And is that a problem."

Hagrid glared at her as if she'd wounded him deeply and personally. "You people killed my Rover!"

"What are you talking about?"

"He was a good boy! He'd a never hurt a soul, but he went and slipped his leash and you people put him down, only 'cause he was a Hell Hound! Rover was a good boy! He'd didn't want ta hurt anybody! He only wanted to play!" the towering giant exclaimed between sobs. "Why'd ya have ta go and kill my Rover?"

Looking at the sobbing behemoth of a man, Integra could not help but feel like dirt. She knew her family dealt with all kinds of freakish monstrosities but the idea that they could be well behaved and loved… that was just too bloody strange.

"I'm sorry," Integra reluctantly stated, not knowing how to deal with the crying man.

"Your dad said your were to help me 'till Christmas," he voice took on a tint of fear, "You're not going to go shoot my other beasties, are you?"

"No!" Integra replied, mentally adding the fact that if they tried to eat her they would be open game.

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke their teeth, but the four friends pretended to be enjoying them as they told Hagrid all about their first -lessons. Fang rested his head on Harry's knee and drooled all over his robes while Integra did her best, to comfort the giant of a man, who apparently was still hurt by the death of his Hell Hound.

Harry and Ron were delighted to hear Hagrid call Fitch "that old git."

"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her - Fitch puts her up to it."

Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.

"But he seemed to really hate me."

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid, not quite meeting Harry's eye, "Why should he?"

"Well," Hermione thought to herself, "He seemed to like Integra enough. Even gave Gryffindor a point."

Hagrid glanced at Integra is some surprise, "Now missy, I'd like ta hear how you pulled that off!"

Integra shrugged, "I explained how wolfsbane was used to hunt werewolves…"

"Sounded to me like he gave you a point because you told him the best way to hunt them was with a machine gun…" Ron remarked, "Sounds to me like he's got something against werewolves…"

"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid quickly asked Ron. "I liked him a lot - great with animals."

Integra and Harry;s eyes met over the table with a nod as they both wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose.

While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie's work with dragons, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet…

GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown. Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day.

"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokes goblin this afternoon.

"Hagrid!" said Harry, "that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were there!"

There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn't meet Harry's eyes this time. He grunted and offered him another rock cake.

Integra took the clipping from Harry and read over it. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day. She paused for a moment in thought.

"Harry," Integra though out loud, "Didn't you tell me Hagrid took a funny little package out vault…"

"So, Integra," Hagrid rapidly stammered, "What did ya do to get punished this hard anyways?"

Integra sighed. He was defiantly dodging something. "I 'overreacted' when that despicable little git Draco Malfoy called me a Mudblood."

Hagrid and Ron both gasped.

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed, "No wonder you tried to kill 'em!"

"He didn't!" an outraged Hagrid growled at Integra.

"What's a Mudblood anyways?" Hermione thought out loud.

"It's about the most insulting thing he could think of," stated Ron, "Mudblood Is a really foul name for someone who is Muggle-born - you know, non-magic parents. There are some wizards - like Malfoy's family - who think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call pure-blood…"

"How dare that peasant claim anyone has dirty blood, no less than a member of the peerage!" Integra growled, "Just look at the fool, strutting around thinking he's better than everyone else because he's from a wizarding family!" She looked at Ron, and indignity asked, "Are all Purebloods such simple minded fools?"

"Hey!" Ron exclaimed, "I'm a Pureblood too you know!"

"I take that as a 'yes'," Integra replied sardonically.

Ron flushed crimson while Harry chuckled at his friend's expense.

"Integra, you really should tell him the whole story…"

She sighed and began recounting the story that ended with her punishment and Harry's becoming Gryffindor's seeker.

"Hold on," Ron cut in, "You're telling me you got a semester of punishment because you tried to go to your daddy?" he shook his head in disgust. "

"I didn't do it to escape punishment!" Integra replied, "She was going to take twenty points from Gryffindor! I refuse to allow the house to suffer for my actions!"

Harry gawked, "You're taking a three month punishment so Gryffindor doesn't loose twenty points?"

She nodded.

"Integra this is wrong!" Hermione exclaimed, "You don't have to do this to yourself!"

Hagrid nodded. "This is the most movin' think I did ever hear. If you want I could talk to Professor McGonagall about it…"

Integra shook her head and began to complain but Harry cut her off.

"If you're going to have to help Hagrid for the rest of the semester then I will too!"

Both Ron and Hermione nodded in agreement.

by Jryu

William Hellsing could not find it in him to be surprised to find Dumbledore asking for another meeting with him. "Hello again, Headmaster Dumbledore."

The old wizard smiled slightly as he sat down. "We do seem to be seeing a lot of each other, these days. I have no doubt that soon, Cornelius will be convinced I'm plotting with you to have him removed from office."

Hellsing gave a sardonic chuckle at the thought. "While I personally feel that Minister Fudge should be removed, if I acted against every ineffectual minister I encountered, I would never have time to do my real job," he finished with a smile himself, and then sobered. "I don't suppose I need to ask why you are here."

"Of course not. I really must applaud you, Lord Hellsing. Quite a simple solution to a dicey dilemma, I admit. I just would rather have had some warning before hand, is all."

"Oh?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Not all of the protections around Harry are involved in the Blood Rite. Now I must arrange that certain additional wards be removed from #4 Privet Drive, before they bite someone. I would also like to see about adding such protections to the Hellsing grounds... if it can be done without disturbing your operation, or your... house guest."

William smirked at the reference, and made a note to figure out where and when Dumbledore learned about their dungeon resident. "I have my doubts about being able to do so, but I'm sure we can work something out should you find it possible."

"That will be just fine. I do hope you will be kind enough to keep me informed if you instigate any other changes in Harry's summer home. As it is still early in the school year, it isn't a problem right now, but as time passes, any changes would have to be acted upon more... swiftly."

"Again, I don't think that will be a problem. However, I do have my own question about the protective rite..."

"Oh?"

"Yes... how precise is it? Since the Dursleys will be living on Hellsing grounds, would the protection hold as long as he lived on the grounds as well, or would he need to actually live in the same house as they do?"

Dumbledore sat in thought for a few minutes. "I am... actually uncertain about that. It was not a situation considered when the spell was originally cast. I will look into it... but, unless I find otherwise, I would recommend erring on the side of caution, and having Harry board in the same house as the Dursleys." A small twinkle entered Dumbledore's eyes. "Of course, I would think that it would be obvious that, while he might have to sleep under his Aunt's roof, he could easily spend his days elsewhere on the grounds."

Lord Hellsing nodded and smirked as well. "Somehow, I doubt any of them would be displeased with that situation."

Dumbledore stood up. "Then I believe I should be returning. I have a feeling it will not be long before we meet again, Lord Hellsing."

William nodded. "As do I. Good day, Headmaster."

by Bastet's Chosen

Integra was impressed.

Her initial impression of Hagrid was that of a well meaning buffoon, the sort of person who would make a good servant as long as the duties didn't include any secrecy or handling china. The afternoon showed that Hagrid was much more than that. She was sure that he was showing off, and Hagrid exposed them to several extremely dangerous species. Integra didn't need Hermione's identification of each monster to tell her that, the claws, beaks, and horns all looked deadly. Hermione was very good, however, at filling in the blanks in Hagrid's descriptions; it was almost as if the big man's mind just glossed over the possibility that any of his charges could somehow be dangerous.

Still, despite that mental blind spot, Hagrid kept himself and them safe throughout their chores, even when bandaging a griffin's leg or throwing food to the three-headed hound on the third floor. Integra was confident Hagrid wasn't supposed to have that last pet; he asked them all not to tell anyone else about it.

It hadn't taken much time for Hagrid to declare their chores over, and soon they were once again in his hut, pretending to each his cooking.

"I'm very sorry about Rover," Integra offered again. Hagrid probably could keep a hellhound in line, if today was any indication. "If the Ministry of Magic would respond to muggle cases faster, then maybe we wouldn't have to hurt the beasts that attack us."

"The Ministry wouldn't be any good," Hagrid grumbled, "they're just as quick to kill defenseless animals."

"I don't understand," Integra replied. "today, you were able to handle all those animals. If there is the expertise needed to capture such things without killing them, why isn't it used?"

"The Ministry's full of animal haters," Hagrid pronounced. "If a wizard gets hurt, then they insist on killing the beast, even if it didn't do nothing wrong."

"That's not right!" Hermione yelled. "When people are hurt by animals, it's usually because the person put themselves in a bad position."

"I'm not sure walking down the street that a hellhound decides to stroll on counts as a bad decision," Integra countered. She held up her hand before Hermione could retort. "I concede your point that humans often provoke animals, intentionally or not."

"I don't get it," Ron complained. "I mean, if an animal starts hurting people, then you have to kill it, or it'll hurt them again."

"Don't be stupid," Integra answered. "If an animal isn't seeking out people to hurt, then subduing the animal and isolating from those that don't know how to behave around it. Lacking souls, animals can't choose to be evil. As God gave us dominion over them, we have a responsibility to care for them. Unfortunately, Hellsing lacks the means to subdue most beasts and the resources to keep them separate."

"You mean you killed Rover because you didn't know any better?" Hagrid asked surprised. "Well next time, just come get me, and I'll take care of any poor little animal that wanders where it doesn't belong."

Integra blinked. Hagrid's service could prove valuable. "I'll be happy to owl my father with your offer right now," she said, rising to leave, her "snack" untouched. The other three students decided to leave with her, their own food unconsumed.

As they walked back to the castle, Ron asked, "Why didn't you say your little chant before Hagrid served us? I thought you had to say it before every meal."

Integra sighed. The worst of it was that Ron wasn't trying to insult her, he actually appeared to be curious. "Ron," she responded, "I only say grave when I intend to actually eat."

by PsyckoSama

Draco Malfoy slowly and purposefully walked through the halls of Hogwarts. Things that he had once heard regarding Lord Voldemort, things that he had once dismissed as pure hearsay and lies but no, in the light of his father true sniveling nature, he felt compelled to authenticate. And now, he was patrolling the halls of the school looking for the headmaster, the one wizard who Voldemort feared, and hopefully the one who would be willing to shine some light on the details of the Dark Lord's early life. He knew he was taking a risk, but he needed to know.

A thin smile came to Draco's face as he saw Albus Dumbledore enter the hallway.

Running up to the aged wizard he cleared his throat, and as respectfully as he could, he asked, "Professor Dumbledore, may I have a moment of your time."

While he still had nothing but contempt for the professor's muggle loving way, he knew that the best way to get wanted was to be respectful and open minded in front of the old man.

"Yes, Mister Malfoy?" Dumbledore replied warmly, but with a slight level of distance. "How may I help you."

"I need to ask you about someone," Draco replied, somewhat curtly.

"Who do you want to ask about?" the professor asked with a amused twinkle in his eyes.

Draco looked at the occupied hallway and glanced back to the professor. "Headmaster Dumbledore. I don't think I should ask in public."

The Headmaster looked positively amused at the young man's antics.

"Nonsense," the old man replied with a smile, "What is so important that you must request secrecy?

If anyone else hear his asking Dumbledore about Lord Voldemort, then he'd be in real trouble.

Suddenly Draco shook as if a chill had just climbed up his spine as Dumbledore gazed deeply into his eyes.

In a much cooler voice, the Headmaster replied, "Actually, maybe you're right. Please follow me."

Draco shuddered slightly, the warm old man was beginning to make him feel very uncomfortable, like a nameless sense of dread had just overcome him. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

Dumbledore began to walk through the halls, Draco in tow before reaching what appeared to be a dead end in the wall marked by a gargoyle.

"Lemon Drop," the old man said in a relaxed tone. Suddenly, the Gargoyle began to lift and a stairwell appeared.

Draco was somewhat stunned. The Headmaster's office!

"Please come up," Dumbledore stated.

With a nod, Draco began to follow up the stairs. He marveled at the office. It was full of many amazing magical artifacts, but that was to be expected now wasn't it.

Dumbledore sat down and looked Draco in the eyes once more. "Please, sit."

Draco quickly sat. He had a feeling that it had not been a request.

"Now, who is it you would like to ask about?" Dumbledore asked, but Draco had his sick feeling that the old man already knew what it was he was going to ask.

Draco gulped, but stealing his mental, he asked, "Tell me about Tom Marvolo Riddle. He was a student here, wasn't he?"

"Yes, yes he was," Dumbledore answered coolly. "Now why is it you are so interested in an old student?"

"Is it true that Tom Riddle is Lord Voldemort?" He asked.

"Yes, that's what Tom began to call himself after he left school, in fact the name itself is an anagram, I AM LORD VOLDEMORT. Now answer my question, Mister Malfoy. How do you know that name, and why are you interested?"

Draco scoffed, "My father was a Death Eater. I've heard the name before."

What he didn't mention was that he made the connection based on some old school supplies that his father owned and told him never to touch as they'd belonged to the Dark Lord marked with said name. It had been a long shot but it had always confused him why the Dark Lord would have had school books with such a Muggle sounding name on them.

Dumbledore nodded, "Anything else you want to know?"

Darco inhaled deeply. It was something he'd heard mentioned once or twice before but had always dismissed as pure slander… but now he felt like it needed to be asked.

"Was Tom Riddle a pureblood or wasn't he?"

"No, he wasn't," the old man replied, "In fact, his father was a muggle."

Draco reeled as if he had been punched. Lord Voldemort was a Half Blood. The words shattered Draco's entire world. He felt sick.

"Excuse me, but I feel I must be going," Draco managed to crack out.

The old man affect returned to the warm and kind grandfatherly figure he usually projected. "Very well, you may go Mister Malfoy, but before you go…"

"Yes?"

"Would you fancy a lemon drop?"

"I'm fine," he all but hissed in response as he left the room.

Draco stumbled down the steps and began to walk blindly forward, clenching a railing for support. Tears streamed from his eyes, his breath labored, and his face was bright red with rage as he considered the truth.

It was a lie. All of it was a lie, everything he had ever been taught was a lie. Lord Voldemort's ideal of Pure bloods ruling was pure fiction. It was never about blood purity, it was about one wizards quest for power. All about power, blood purity was just a candy coating for the truth. Lord Voldemort ruled his Death Eater stooges through fear, using the promise of power to convince them to follow him, and the idea that dirty muggles should have nothing to do with the wizarding world to unite them… but he was nothing more than a dirty half-blood with a muggle father! He lied to and controlled his death eaters the same way Draco's own father had tried to control him!

Draco sneered. He finally had seen the truth. Blood purity was important, yes, he would never disagree with that, but there seemed to be something stronger, something much more dangerous.

He laughed darkly as he saw a group begin to ascend the steps below him.

The secret was POWER. All this were second to power. He laughed once more. He was Draco Malfoy, the scion of a proud wizarding family with a history that reached back before recorded history! He would NEVER bow down to an arrogant half-blood with aspirations for world domination! He would never serve anyone!

His eyes locked onto the platinum haired girl in the center of the group below him. Integra Hellsing. She was a mudblood, true, but she possessed something more important than blood purity. One only had to look over to the side at Ronald Weasley to see this fact.

She had power, the true force behind Voldemort and the true force that drove the world.

He would make nice-nice with the little mudblood, but not because his father said so, but because he needed powerful allies. He would destroy his father, and she had the power to do so.

On the steps below, Harry and his friends looked upwards in confusion as they heard a mad, megalomaniacal sounding laugh coming from above.

"What in the bloody hell was that?" Ron wondered out loud.

"Sounded like something out of a bad horror movie," Hermione replied.

"Sounded like Draco Malfoy," Integra remarked.

Harry shook his head, "I don't know what it sounded like, but I know one thing. I don't like the sound of it."

by Jryu

"Good news, Harry!"

Harry and Ron looked up from their game of wizard's chess at Integra's excited announcement. Not that it was particularly hard for Harry to do so... he was getting thoroughly beaten by Ron. The fact that the pieces he was using were very vocal in their displeasure at his lack of skill wasn't helping his game, either. "What is it?"

Integra had a letter in her hand, with the Hellsing seal on it, so the boys could only guess it was from her father. An assumption that Integra quickly validated. "I told you I would see about getting you away from that horrid family of yours, remember?"

Ron blinked at this, but Harry nodded, his eyes widening. "Do you mean I won't have to go back to the Dursley's?"

Integra blushed a bit, and shook her head. "Not... exactly. It turns out that there are some protective spells on you that require you live with them..."

Harry looked confused at that. "What? Why would I have that kind of protection?"

This time, it was Ron than answered. "Oh, come on, Harry! You're the Boy-That-Lived! And anyone with any sense knows that a lot of the Death Eaters managed to get off unpunished. Any one of them would have loved to kill you, just to boost their own reputation."

"Oh."

Integra nodded. "Exactly. So Father can't just remove you from the Dursleys. So instead, he hired your uncle."

"What?!" Harry cried.

"Yes, your Uncle is now working for the Hellsing Organization, making sure the right people get the right supplies so they can do their jobs. As such, his family - and yourself, during the brakes - will now be living in one of the houses on the Hellsing Estate. That mean that I'll be just a short jog away. So even if you do have to live with those horrible people, help will always be nearby."

Harry nodded, liking the sound of that. "Still, I don't know... it sounds like they're getting rewarded for what they put me through."

Integra gave a wicked smile. "Don't worry... according to my father, the Dursleys are in for a bit of a surprise, once they move in..."

"What the bloody hell is this?!"

Vernon Dursley was not happy. Petunia and Dudley had not been pleased with the notion of moving, even if it was into a house in London itself. Even if the 'small' house the Hellsing people provided for them was larger than #4 Privet Drive, or that the 'Company Car' he now used was, in fact, an older Rolls Royce. Getting them moved in had been a chore, but Vernon had been certain they would warm up to things, once they got there.

At least he had been, up until getting woken up, along with the rest of his family, by Walter Ddollneazz, and some soldier chaps, at 4:30 in the morning!

Walter was completely unfazed by Vernon's anger. "It's quite simple, Mr. Dursley. As you are now working for Hellsing, and as your family lives on Hellsing grounds, there are certain requirements that you must meet. You, at the least, must be ready and able to act at any time of the day or night. We won't always have the luxury of a 9-5 schedule for you, and if we need you at one AM, then you had best be able to do your job then, as well. Furthermore, it is required that all people living on the grounds meet certain standards to defend themselves. To that end... yourself and your wife will be heading to the shooting range with Sergeant Vincent, to learn some basic gun care. When you are reasonable marksmen, we will stop waking you at such an early hour, outside of emergencies."

"WHAT?!" Vernon raged again.

Petunia looked nervously at her son, and then back to Walter. "What about Dudley? I don't want him using a gun!"

Walter graced Petunia's concern with more respect than Vernon's rages. "I understand, Mrs. Dursley, but it is required. However, your son will not be learning to shoot right away. As he is only eleven, we won't teach him to use a weapon until we are certain he has the needed... discipline to handle that responsibility. Instead, he will be under the care of Sergeant Wilson, our personal trainer, to get the boy into shape. Normally, he won't need to get up until dawn, but I thought it best to get this all over with at once, today."

Petunia glared at Walter, while Dudley whined about wanting to go back to sleep. Then she turned her glare on her husband.

Vernon huffed. "Well, then we'll just be bloody well leaving!"

Walter's smile thinned. "I don't believe you want to do that, Mr. Dursley. You signed a ten year contract with the Hellsing Organization... and Sir Hellsing does not like those who do not keep their words. If you break the contract and quite, I fear you will find it impossible to attain new employment within England, and quite likely far beyond our shores as well. And, of course, if you reveal what exactly is going on here to others... well, let's just say it could have some very... unfortunate consequences. I do suggest this is the time to just grin and bear it. Things will be easier if you do so..."

Vernon had paled considerably as Walter spoke, and then glanced at Petunia's intensified death glare. And had a feeling he would be sleeping on the couch for a long time to come...

"I thank you for making the time to see me, Countess." Lucius Malfoy said with a small bow. He was dressed in full Death Eater uniform, and was currently backed up by four other Death Eaters.

It was, after all, the minimum number he could bring and still feel relatively safe in meeting a vampire as old as the one before him.

"How could I refuse," the vampire replied in a sultry voice, "when you come bearing such wonderful gifts?" she finished, indicating the freshly drained corpse of a nun at her foot of her seat. In the background, several young girls stood in a daze, compelled not to run from the fate that was about to befall them.

The vampire leaned forward, her dark hair glistening in the candlelight, and displaying her creamy white skin and generous bosom to the men before her. Around her, four male vampires, her fledglings, all stood, ready to strike for their mistress.

"It was nothing, my dear Countess Bathory. Nothing at all."

Countess Elizabeth Bathory, the infamous 'Bloody Countess,' leaned back and smiled, showing off her fangs. "So, what brings such illustrious men as yourselves to my home?"

Lucius smirked a bit. "I wish to propose as small... alliance."

Bathory raised her eyebrows. "Really? I did not side with your Lord, while he was around. Why should I join your cause, so long after he is gone?"

"I am not asking for a long term alliance, just a short exchange. I would like for one or two of your... family... to make strikes at several locations in England."

Now Bathory frowned. "You realize you are asking me to send my fledglings to their destruction? Smart vampires do not traverse to England casually."

"Surely you do not fear Hellsing?" Lucius asked with a smirk.

Bathory snarled at the man. "Do not presume too much, Death Eater. Suffice to say I have my own reasons for not antagonizing the Hellsing group."

That surprised Lucious, and he made a mental note to research why that might be at a later date. "Very well, but I believe I can make it worth your while, Countess."

"Really? And what could you possibly have that would be worth sacrificing my fledglings for?"

"Once the job is done, I will give you the Gem of Amara."

Lucius smirked to himself at the sudden greed he saw on Bathory's face. The gem was a powerful artifact his lord had recovered, only to find that its powers could only be used by Vampires. Useless to him, but to Nosferatu, it was practically the holy grail...

"Very well... I think I may be able to accommodate you, after all. What do you wish done?"

"A simple double strike. While one attacks a muggle hospital, the other will go through a backdoor I've prepared into St. Mungo's. Let your boys rampage, create a lot of Ghouls, and so on."

Bathory looked at the Death Eaters with narrowed eyes. "I take it this has a purpose beyond simple chaos?"

"Let's just say that the results of these attacks will keep some mutual enemies busy dealing with politics rather than their jobs."

The Bloody Countess laughed at the thought. "Very well. I will arrange for a pair of my children to accommodate you. But for now I suggest you and your 'friends' leave," she said, once again showing her fangs. "I'm still feeling a bit hungry."

Lucius bowed, and the Death Eaters left. He smiled to himself as they walked away from the room. Thanks to some arrangements he'd 'suggested' to Fudge, when the attacks came, any truly effective Auror would be too far away to deal with St. Mungo's. Hellsing would have to handle both situations, which would infuriate Fudge. That, in turn, would force Hellsing to focus on the Minister's attacks, rather than looking any further into places the muggles shouldn't. And none of it could be linked directly back to him.

None of the Death Eaters even flinched as the screams started from the room behind them.

by Bastet's Chosen

Gregory was not a fool. He knew his mistress had sent him to England expecting him and his sister to die there. Gregory was happy and willing to die for his mistress, but really preferred not to. He had hit upon a plan that would fulfill the Death Eaters' request and give him the best chance of making back to his mistress.

Long before Vanessa began her terribly obvious attack upon the normal hospital, Gregory slipped through the backdoor into St. Mungo's. He then began to turn the inhabitants, in singles and pairs, into ghouls. These he had hide themselves, and he had gained control of the hospital in short order. With the low number of patients it took in at night, Gregory figured he could be well away before the daytime's business brought enough wizards there that someone would get away to inform the Ministry that their hospital was filled with man-eating ghouls. He rather thought the question of how many people entered seeking treatment only be devoured alive would prove the horror that Death Eater requested. At worst, the Hellsing troops would just find them early, after killing off Vanessa, and he'd have less of a head start. That wouldn't be ideal, but better than a standup fight with the group.

Unfortunately, ward 49 provided a problem. Apparently, an insane human resulted in an insane ghoul. Not that ghouls weren't off the deep end anyway, but he couldn't have one ignoring orders and wandering off into the street, tipping off the authorities early. Fortunately, Gregory had a modicum of talent at meddling with minds. In ones and twos, he regressed the patients back to before their minds snapped, then drained them. It was quite easy to know when that point had been reached, they always asked where they were.

Hm, the next two in line were married; he'd take those two together. Their first (and last) normal thoughts would be the knowledge that their beloved spouse was being killed right before their eyes. . .

Alice Longbottom had no idea what was happening. At one moment, Bellatrix Lestrange was threatening her and her husband with the Cruciatus Curse if they didn't reveal Voldemort's location. The next thing she knew, she was staring at what was quite obviously a vampire. Auror training rushing to the front of her mind, Alice leapt to the side and rolled. In the moment of surprise before the vampire responded, Alice had ripped a wand from the coat of a ghoul that once was a healer, and had it pointed at the undead. Beyond the vampire, she saw her husband Frank holding another hastily acquired wand. As one, they quickly chanted.

The vampire moved with inhuman speed to kill Alice, only to discover, to its horror, that the very act of casting an anti-vampire charm rendered a witch impervious to vampire attack. Of course, most vampires killed one before they got a chance to start casting, but Alice and her husband, trained by the aurors and skills honed in the war against Voldemort, had, despite the sudden change of location and surprise confrontation, managed to get the drop on their assailant. Gregory vanished in an explosion of ashes.

Alice nodded to her husband. The ghouls were next.

by PsyckoSama

With a groan, Vernon Dursley's eyes cracked open, awakened by blaring klaxons. What in the bloody hell was going on? What devils did he make a deal with to deny him the simple human requirement of sleep. First they woke them at bloody 4:30am and made his family work out and practice with firearms. While he didn't mind the shooting, it was actually rather fun, he did mind having the run around the entire bloody estate, and worse of all his wife had banished him to the couch.

With a groan he pulled his threadbare blanket over his head, but was interrupted by a pounding on the door.

Slowly he stood and cracked it open, standing in the doorway was Lord Hellsing himself, dressed in full military regalia complete with saber. Suddenly, Vernon felt quite under dressed in his PJs…

"Get dressed," Lord Hellsing stated sharply.

"What in the bloody hell is going on… Sir?" he blurted out.

"Vampire attack. A Hospital in Wales."

Vernon blinked, "Then what do you need me for?"

"First," Lord Hellsing stated in a commanding tone that brooked no anger, but also no room for disagreement, "When the klaxon sound all members of this Organization are to report to their posts. Second, today you will accompany the troops as an observer. You are going to see what we do. Make sure you have your weapon with the proper ammunition."

Vernon nodded, after his years of diligent work and shameless ass kissing, he knew better than to put up any form of a fight.

In a blur the thick necked man rushed up the stairs, and less than three minutes later he was down stairs half-dressed in a suit, with the pin on his tie proudly announcing his place in the organization. Everything was out of place, and he looked like a mess, but he was dressed.

Lord Hellsing sighed, but as before showed less anger, and more the relaxed disappointment one shows for a rookie who has yet to prove himself.

"Come," He stated, "You can straighten yourself up in the helicopter. We are going in with the second wave."

"We?" Vernon asked in surprise.

"I always accompany the rookies on their first mission. See how they account themselves."

Vernon gulped, he did not like the sound of that…

Roughly thirty minutes later the chopper landed in front of a medium sized Welsh hospital. The entire area was taped off and the air sounded with unholy screams and gunshots. The entire mess felt wrong.

He has never liked being around James and Lilly Potter. They felt off to him, their magic ways always offended his sensibilities. This on the other hand felt wrong, as if all that was right was torn from the situation leaving a festering wound in his psyche.

Slowly and meekly he followed Lord Hellsing through the entrance of the hospital. The entire place was a wreck, covered in bloody and bodies. It made him want to vomit.

A soldier walked up to Lord Hellsing and saluted, "Sir, the situation is contained, and we have done as you ordered."

Lord Hellsing smiled. "Good, follow me, Dursley…"

Slowly he followed the lord to the morgue. Two guards stood vigil in front of a barricaded door. From inside the sound of pounding emanated. Something was trapped inside and wanted out…

"Open the door," the Lord told his vassals, and they did as instructed, immediately taking firing position behind their lord as the door swung open.

A wounded ghoul shambled from the nearly vault like room.

Vernon's heart leapt into his stomach as he looked at the gray skinned undead, into the pits of its empty eyes. Its shuffle was slowed to a near crawl due to a hip shattered by a Hellsing bullet, but still it came ever so slowly forward.

"Do your duty, Dursley," the lord stated.

Vernon slowly drew his pistol with an unsteady hand and looked at the monster.

He'd been briefed on Vampires and Ghouls but he'd hoped never to see one in person. He knew that this had ones been a person, a normal human being. From the looks of it a nurse. She was dressed in rather plain clothes, cheap even, but there seemed to be a sense of pride in the appearance of her clothes despite her menial job.

This was a life stolen, by pure evil. She was likely a mother too, and now the mother of orphans. For a split second he saw the face of his beloved Petunia pasted over the face of the undead monstrosity.

It was in that fateful moment that Vernon's fear was transformed into a burning rage in the pit of his stomach, a form of anger he had never before felt. No, an anger that he had never before felt possible.

He had defaulting remembering before, but words flowed to him as if they naturally part of him. In a strong, thundering voice he had saved for only his most outrageous fits of anger, he belted out, "In the name of God, the unclean souls of the living dead shall be banished into Eternal Damnation, Amen!"

Vernon fired three shots. The first two struck the monster in the head but they only stunned it. The third found its mark between the Ghoul's empty eye sockets and reduced the monster to dust.

As his rage faded, he looked blanking at where the monster had been. The monster he had slain. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to looking into the eyes of Lord Hellsing. The man seemed content, even proud.

"Well done, Dursley. Welcome to Hellsing."

Vernon breathed deeply. For a moment he was confused, why had they done this. Had him kill a Ghoul, and then, he realized.

It was a test. They needed to know if he could stand in the face of danger. It was one thing shooting a target, it was another shooting an unholy ghoul. He also felt that it was a trial of fire. He'd never actually thought much about what Hellsing did before this moment, but not he understood. It was to save people from losing their souls, from being killed or like the poor woman who he'd just put out of her misery, worse. People like his Petunia, his Dudley…

Slowly he looked at his employer, his lord, and in a calm and tired voice, he replied, "Thank you. I… understand."

by Bastet's Chosen

At breakfast, letters arrived for both Integra and Harry. Harry was surprised to get mail that morning; everyone he knew that might owl him was at Hogwarts and could just talk. However, that surprise was nothing to the shock he received when he read the letter.

Harry,

By now I expect you've heard the news about my new job and all the arrangements. When we sent you off to that school of yours, your aunt and I thought that years of hard work put into raising you right we're going to be all blown away. It's a testament to our parenting that you fell in with a good crowd. Stay close to Lady Integra, boy, and listen to what she says. The Hellsings are Good People and a credit to our race. You know your aunt and I don't approve of your weirdness, but if you end up working for Hellsing, well, then I suppose we can tolerate it; fight fire with fire and all that. Now, Lord Hellsing has decided to look after you during the day this summer, and if there's anyone who can deal with a boy like you, it's him. He seems to think you need a little more carrot and a little less stick. Myself, I feel "spare the rod and spoil the child," but I expect he'll realize what needs doing soon enough. Don't embarrass me or your aunt, boy.

Cordially,

Vernon Dursley

Harry blinked a couple of times, then showed the letter to Integra and Ron. "What do you think it means?" he asked. Integra shrugged.

"I don't know," she admitted. "It does refer to both myself and my father; perhaps my letter will explain it.

Dear Integra,

I have heard you started your chores with the groundskeeper and am glad you've accepted your assignment with dignity and without complaint. You are the face of Hellsing at Hogwarts and, to many people, the only contact they have with Hellsing. It is important they see us as fair and above reproach. While our family has always placed an emphasis upon acting morally and not caring for the judgement of others, save God, these other considerations must be acknowledged. Therefore, when acting as a member of Hellsing, you must not only avoid impropriety, but also the appearance of impropriety. Any chastisement or punishment need therefore be public, so as to increase and maintain confidence in Hellsing as a whole. I hope this impresses you with the importance and gravity of invoking the authority of Hellsing; it is not something done lightly, not even for the best of reasons.

However, I had not set pen to paper in order to drag up old mistakes. Rather, I wished to inform you that we have mostly solved the problems keeping Harry from our custody. Hellsing has hired Harry's uncle and provided a house for him and his family - on our estate. While Dumbledore insists Harry spend the night under the same roof as his relatives due to a spell of protection, his days are his own and I believe the Dursleys are quite happy to have the lad spend them away from their family.

Although Vernon's treatment of young Potter has been deplorable, he is very good at his job and appears to be quite the find. He has also completed his introductory deployment and reacted satisfactorily. I expect he will resent the morning weapon drills less, although I cannot say if he can pass on that understanding to his family.

While I am happy to relay this news to you, recent events would have delayed this letter, were it not necessary to brief you. As I write this, Hellsing is dealing with the aftermath of two operations against vampire incursions in one night. Both target hospitals and the patients within. One of those hospitals, however, was for wizards, and you can expect questions regarding it. Do not give out any information, Integra, not even what is normally allowed to the public. There are several complications with this last operation, and things may become delicate. All the information regarding it is now need-to-know, and, to aid you in your stonewalling, I believe you need to not know.

Love,

William Frederick Hellsing III

"Well, Harry," Integra said after she finished her letter. "It appears that your uncle has accepted an offer of employment from my father, and has moved his household to the Hellsing estate. This summer, as long as you sleep under your uncle's roof, you may spend the rest of your time away from your relatives.

"That's great!" Harry exclaimed, grinning. He'd get to spend the day away from Dudley, from being the household drudge, from-

Muffled crying, and jeers from the Slytherin table, interrupted Harry's thoughts. He turned to see a teary Neville Longbottom being escorted out of the Great Hall by Professor McGonagall.

"What's going on?" Harry asked.

"Look!" Hermione demanded, walking over while waving a page from The Daily Prophet.

Vampire Wipes Out St. Mungo's

Last night one or more vampires infiltrated St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, preying upon the staff and patients. Hellsing agents eventually retook the hospital, but not before the vampire wreaked havoc within its walls. While Hellsing refuses to release more information than that there was at least one vampire involved, diligent research has revealed that none of the staff has returned to their homes and none of the patients have been transferred to other hospitals. The conclusion is obvious: the vampire slaughtered all those inside St. Mungo's not to mention how many innocents entering the hospital, seeking treatment only to find death.

When asked about why the Ministry of Magic did not respond to the situation, Cornelius Fudge responded, "There's only so many Aurors, and each one can still only be in one place at a time." The Minister also addressed Hellsing's involvement. "They insist on taking care of vampires, you know, but then mismanage their resources and let a massacre like this occur. I happen to know that Hellsing sent a number of their men to deal with a minor Muggle incident while the attack on St. Mungo's was happening. This is what comes from involving Muggles in serious matters; they lose their objectivity and simply aren't capable of dealing with the complexities of the magical world."

Upon hearing these quotes, Hellsing representatives responded "Hellsing protects all members of the British Empire. We do not comment on combat strategy." Is Hellsing hiding something? Anonymous sources indicate that two wizards were seen leaving the area with Hellsing personnel. We leave our readers with Minister Fudge's parting comment: "Well, I find it very suspicious, you know? Vampires attack a hospital when no Aurors can respond (something that only someone in the high levels of government would know) then Hellsing swoops in to save the day after all the witnesses are dead. Makes you think of those rumors that Hellsing doesn't kill all the vampires they catch, but controls some of them."

by PsyckoSama

Integra's blood began to run hot as she read the over the page from The Daily Prophet. She could begin to feel her heart pound in her chest and her vision go wonky from her rage. This was beyond the par. It was an insult to everything her family stood for.

"So, is it true?" a third year Ravenclaw asked from behind her. "Do you really conspire with vampires?"

"Yeah, and why didn't you get there in time to save people?" asked a Hufflepuff.

"You know the article is right, it is really fishy… what do you have to say to that Hellsing" sneered a Slytherin.

Integra slowly turned around, a gleefully insane smiled on her face. While she raged a small group of students from all the houses had formed to question her.

Seeing the look on her face, Ron back up and waved his hands, "Oh bloody hell, I think she's gone loonie!"

"Let me make this very clear," Integra stated clearly, loud enough for the entire great hall to hear, "This paper is nothing more than scandalous lies. Hellsing does not make deals with the dangerous monsters that we are tasked with dealing with. If a magical being, be it magician or monster, becomes a threat to the sovereign, the church, or the people of our great nation, our standing orders are very clear."

"Search and destroy!" Integra roared as she slammed her fist on the table, "Search and destroy!"

One of the Gryffindors blinked, "But what about that 'minor muggle matter'?"

Integra forced down her rage and replied, "Two hospitals were attacked, not one. That 'minor muggle matter' was a another vampire attack."

One of the older students scoffed, "I hear it was hours before you dealt with it. Why so slow?"

She scoffed, "I'd ask the same about the Aurors! Only be in one place at once! Bah! What's so important that they would let so many people die! Besides, Hellsing responds the moment we get a report!" She threw her arms up in the air in exasperation, "You have no idea how many times that bloody klaxon has woken me up in the middle of the night! If we were slow it was because no one told us until after the fact! I've hear my father complain dozens of times about the Ministry's constant attempts to stonewall our activities! If you truly believe anything that this article says…"

Integra stood up and pointed to Professor Snape, who recoiled in some surprise at being singled out.

"Yes, Miss Hellsing?" he asked coolly.

"If anyone believes that this article is in any way accurate, then you are correct Professor."

"In what way?" He asked, his interest becoming honestly peaked.

She opened her arms in exasperation, signaling the entire student body.

"They are nothing more than a big bunch of dunderheads!"

The entire hall exploded into a roar as they realized Integra had just insulted them all.

Ignoring them all, and with that said, Integra stood up and snatched the article off of the table and began to head for the Hogwarts owlery. He father needed to know about this insipid article, and that rumor mongering whore, who wrote it, a Miss Rita Skeeter would get quite the 'talking to'. Behind her, her friends scrambled off to make sure she did not do anything too crazy. If they'd learned one thing since she arrives, it was Integra had a dangerous temper.

And in the center of the room, Severus Snape almost fell out of chair in laughter. Gasping for breath and between laughs he managed to wheeze out. "Three points to Gryffindor!"

Dumbledore smiled widely with a twinkle in his eyes as the student and her friends left.

"Make that eight. Five for standing up for herself in front of the entire school." He glanced at the potions teacher and remarked, "And three from Professor Snape… for making him laugh harder then he has in twenty years, I suppose."

by Bastet's Chosen

Hermione and the others caught up to Integra as a teary-eyed Neville ran into her path.

"How?" Neville asked piteously. "How could you just let my parents die?"

Integra turned her angry gaze upon Neville. "I assume your parents were patients at St. Mungo's?" she asked. As soon as Neville began to nod, Integra continued, her voice tight with anger, "then it was the Ministry that let them die, not Hellsing. Let me tell you how Hellsing gets involved in a case. A vampire attacks. Local authorities attempt to deal with it. With wizards, that means the Ministry. The Ministry fails to deal with it, or realizes they're unable to deal with it at all. Do they call Hellsing then? No of course not. The Ministry sits on the problem until there's no possible chance of it being dealt with in any positive way, then they call Hellsing in and blame them for all the deaths.

"Management of resources has nothing to do with it, and Fudge very well knows that. Even with muggles, when we get notification sooner, Hellsing arrives after things have gotten out of control. No one calls in Hellsing to save people. Hellsing is called in to when everyone is dead and you need to kill the monster that did it and lay the ghouls to rest.

"If you want to know why your parents died, look to the Ministry of Magic." Integra bit off whatever else she was about to say and stormed off towards the owlery.

"But the paper. . ." Neville said lamely to her retreating back.

"Neville," Hermione said kindly as she hugged him. "I'm sorry for what happened, and I don't know much about Hellsing or vampires, but even I could tell that article had a slant to it. Honestly, even since we came to school even the nicest purebloods talk about muggles like they're sheep. It really does sound like the Ministry is trying to blame Hellsing."

Hermione hurried after Integra, finally catching up to her only after the other girl had sent her owl on its way. "There," Integra said, watching the bird disappear on the horizon, "now we just have to find something to keep me from attacking the next person who demands to know why Hellsing didn't reverse time and undo the Ministry's screw up."

by PsyckoSama

Neville Longbottom watched the two girls leave the owlery and slowly walked forward. His eyes were filled with tears and his heart with sadness, but also a conviction that he'd never felt before.

Slowly he reached his hand into his pocket and withdrew a small object of no apparent value, a laminated gum wrapper. It was one of the few things his mother had ever given him. Under her madness she did not even recognize him, but he could remember looking in her eyes. She knew him, deep down, he knew it. He knew it was sentimental and silly like his Gran had said, but he always though this wrapper was proof she really did recognize him and wanted to give him something, anything.

Part of him always thought he was fooling himself but he refused to believe that. It was his prized possession. He knew deep down that his parents still loved him, under all the madness, but now… now they were dead.

His mum and pa were dead, killed by a monster. What Integra said had struck a nerve. Was the Ministry of Magic really to blame? Was Hellsing always too late to save lives?

He shook his head. That didn't matter, what mattered was the question he needed to ask Integra, the question backed by a conviction, an anger unlike any he'd ever felt before. He never had much, only his family, but he treasured them… and now his parents were dead.

Fighting back his own uncertainty, Neville walked up to Integra.

" Neville…" he began.

The girl turned around, looking angry. Integra was really scary when she was angry and Neville immediately felt put back.

"What is it, Neville?" Integra growled.

"I... I..." he stammered.

"Spit it out Longbottom!"

"I want you to teach me how to fight Vampires!" he exclaimed. With that said, the rest of his words flowed rapidly and with strength. He'd gone over the hump of his own uncertainty. "A vampire killed my Mum and Pa! I don't ever want to see 'em hurt anyone again! I'll stop 'em if I have to! I want to know how to fight them! To… to kill them. You family's been vampire slayers for a long long time... Could you teach me? Please?"

Integra's features softened from her hard rage to understanding, and slowly she placed her hands on his shoulder. "I'd be happy to Neville, but you have to understand something. It's not a game. When you fight a vampire you do so for your life. Do you understand me?"

Neville nodded.

Integra smiled. "Good,"

The girl paused for a moment sam smiled, as if she was reliving a fond memory.

"Neville," she asked, "Why are Vampires so feared?"

He paused, "I don't know."

"Vampires are full of weaknesses," she began, parroting her father, "The power of God repels them, crossing running water makes them sick, they are sensitive to natural light, and the only place they can rest is in a small, dark coffin… but even so they are said to be invincible."

She breathed in deeply and continued, "Its not because they can control wolves and bats. Its not because they are so hard to kill. Its not because they drink blood and can create countless companions and servants. It's a very simple thing."

"What is it?" Neville asked, enthralled buy Integra's speech.

"They are strong," She replied, "Vampires are incredibly powerful. Superhuman reflexes, amazing coordination, a six sense, physical strength, special powers, stamina, the ability to drink blood, transformation, immortality… all of these are incredibly dangerous, but the most dangerous think about a vampire is their capacity for violence. Their brutality is their greatest strength. They can easily pull a human apart like an old rag doll… and they know it. That is why they are dangerous. They have this power and they know it, they know what they are capable of and they know how to use it. Do you understand?"

Neville nodded, a tad paler than before and much more sobered.

"Do you still want to fight them?"

He nodded.

"Good," Integra replied off hands, "Then I will teach you."

by PsyckoSama

Alice and Frank Longbottom slowly walked toward the office of William Fredrick Hellsing III, the Lord Hellsing and master of the Hellsing Organization. They were nervous, and rightfully so. It was not because they were about to meet the most infamous muggle in Brittan, it was because of their level of confusion.

They'd woken up in Saint Mongo's under vampire attack, had exhausted themselves far faster than usual, only to be saved by Hellsing. They looked years older then they should, and because all they had on in the hospital were day dresses, they had been given unmarked Hellsing uniforms to wear. They both passed out from exhaustion on their ride on that strange 'helicopter' device, but now that they were awake, and had eaten a superb breakfast, were hoping for some form of explanation.

Slowly, the Butler, Walter, a man whom they could both tell possessed incredible combat ability from his stride and posture, opened the door. Inside sat the Lord Hellsing behind a great oaken desk. He seemed rightfully so to be a man of great power but he was nit intimidating.

"Mister and Misses Longbottom," William stated warmly, "please, take a seat."

They both did as beckoned, sitting on the luxurious leather armchairs that sat before his desk.

"Now, I know you have many questions for me, but I will begin with one for you. I'd like you to humor me… what is the year?"

They looked at one another, and Frank answered, "It's the year 1981, sir…"

William scowled, not a scowl of anger or disappointment, but one of sadness.

"It is 1991."

They both gasped, in surprise.

"How can we have lost a decade?!" Frank exclaimed.

The Lord Hellsing sighed. "From what little I was able to retrieve from the survivors before we sent them off for debriefing and treatment of injuries, is that ten years ago you were capture by the Death Eaters."

Alice nodded, "Yes, the last thing we remember before waking up in the hospital was Bellatrix Lestrange threatening us with the Cruciatus Curse if we didn't reveal Voldemort's location."

"From what I discovered, she did use it… she tortured you so greatly that you were driven mad by the agony and your minds were destroyed. An insane person makes an insane ghoul, so apparently the Vampire you destroyed regressed your minds back to the very edge of your madness with the intention of transforming you into ghouls. I guess the monstrous creature did not expect to be restoring the faculties of two full trained Aurors…"

They both sank back into their seats in shock until Alice's eyes shot open and she leaned to the forward, "Neville! What happened to Neville? Please, do you know anything about our son?"

" Neville? Neville Longbottom?" William thought out loud before smiling warmly, "Yes, I know of him…"

"Please, tell us what you know?" Frank asked him as he moved his hand to his wife's.

"He is currently attending Hogwarts," William replied, "He is a first year in House Gryffindor and seems to be a kind but forgetful lad with relatively low self esteem."

"How do you know all of that?" Frank replied. He'd been expecting something like a 'he's alive and well', and not a short biography. Not that he was complaining though.

William smiled warmly, even proudly. "I have a very reliable source who keeps me informed about all the goings on in Hogwarts."

"Who would that be?" Alice wondered.

"My daughter, Integra." He replied, "She and Neville are classmates."

Frank blinked in surprise. "Your daughter is a witch?"

William smiled as any proud father should, "Indeed she is, now do you have any more questions?"

"What happened to Voldemort?" Frank asked, "If Bellatrix Lestrange was using to drive us mad with the Cruciatus Curse to get his location, then I would like to know what the hell happened to him?"

"He found the Potters," William replied.

"Oh my god…" Frank muttered.

"James... Lilly…"

"Are dead," William replied, but when he tried to destroy their son his spell backlashed and destroyed him instead."

"What happened to Harry?"

"He's alright," William replied, "In fact beginning this year he will be spending his summers here…"

by Jryu

It was mere hours later that Alice and Frank Longbottom found themselves seated in a jeep as it raced toward the grounds of Hogwarts. Lord Hellsing sat with them, stoic on the outside, but deeply concerned for them.

He would have preferred if they had instead gone to get therapy... or whatever the wizards called it in their world. He had no idea if what the vampire did to them was in any way stable or even long term. For all they know, the two could start slipping back into madness at any time. Now might be the best, and last, chance to truly mend the damage LeStrange had done.

But on the other hand, he could also understand their desire to see their son. That had missed ten years of his life, and if they only had a limited time, they needed to see him. That was why they had flown a helicopter to a particularly innocuous location, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, and were now in a jeep - driven by Walter, heading for the school.

"I don't understand." Frank declared as they got a glimpse of Hogwarts in the distance. "How do you know where Hogwarts is, exactly? I thought it was unplottable."

Alice nodded in agreement with her husband. "And how is it this vehicle still works? I thought muggle contraptions like this didn't work around magic."

William shrugged, and decided there was little harm in telling them. "For the first question... there was an agreement, made in my great-grandfather's time. To be able to do our jobs, should we be needed, the locations of several important Wizarding places in throughout England and Scotland were disclosed to the head of Hellsing. Should a situation warrant that the Hellsing Organization mobilize on one of those locations - as it happened with St. Mungo's - I can direct my men to it. They, of course, won't be able to tell anyone else, even the other soldiers who were not involved in that action, about where it is. Currently, only myself, Walter, and my daughter, know where Hogwarts is, though. And unless something catastrophic happens, it will stay that way."

He shifted a bit as the jeep hit a particularly nasty bump. "As for your question, Mrs. Longbottom, it amazes me exactly how few wizards really understand what the effects of magic is on 'muggle' technology. Wizards and witches don't think anything at all of the Knight bus, but honestly believe that a normal car would simply sputter and die if it got anywhere near magic."

The Longbottoms blinked at that, waiting for Lord Hellsing to continue.

"To put it simply, magic doesn't have any effect on chemical reactions. If it did, it would be toxic to humans, after all. As such, once the engine of a car starts going, it will continue even in a magic-heavy environment, like the area around Hogwarts. We couldn't use the lights or radio, here, and if the jeep stops, we would be unable to restart it... but otherwise, it will continue to work just fine."

Of course, he carefully did not tell them that the same principle worked with the majority of Hellsing's weapons, guns being no more affected by magic than the engine of the car was. Or that Hellsing had ways to protect their electrical equipment from the effects of magic, at least for a time. Magic screwed around with electricity far worse than even an electromagnetic pulse did, after all. But, of course, the Longbottoms didn't need to know any of that.

"Sir," Walter said, "We're almost there."

William nodded, and then turned to the Longbottoms and grinned. "Let's go surprise some people, shall we?"

by PsyckoSama

Albus Dumbledore sat calmly in his office eating lemon drops and reading one of his favorite books. While he knew it was a tad selfish, especially considering the chaos surrounding young Miss Wingates-Hellsing, she had handled herself well and frankly, even the world's greatest wizard needed a moment of free time sometimes. Oh, sure, the teacher knew to contact him if he was needed but he did not expect what he was soon to see.

His eyebrow lifted as he heard the entrance to his office begin to open. He paid no heed and waited for who was to come. Likely one of the professors wishing to have a moment of his time, and he didn't need to maintain an especially professional front for that. They knew he was relaxed, if not even somewhat happy go luckily at times. Normally they'd walk up, state their issue, and depending the severity of the problem, he'd provide sagacious advice or get off his fanny and get to work. He never expect to see Minerva McGonagall run in with a looking like a student had read the Necronomicon Ex-Mortis, and that the Evil Dead were laying siege to the school.

Putting down the book he smiles. "What seems to be the problem, Minerva?"

Gasping for air, she managed to choke out. "Lord Hellsing is here to see you…"

Dumbledore's eye peeked. It was a bit of a surprise for the lord Hellsing to be here, but that was no reason for someone as collected and, to be honest, damn near unshakable as Professor McGonagall to look like the Deadites were on the march.

"Is there anything else?" he asked with concern.

"The Longbottoms are with them…"

His eyebrow peaked. "Neville's guardians are here?"

"No," McGonagall responded, "Frank and Alice!"

Albus Dumbledore was not an easy man to surprise. Most of the time he took the unexpected with a smile, or at the most a quizzical glance. This time was quite different. Albus's jaw dropped and his eyes almost bugged out of his skull in surprise.

"What?"

"They are here and they seem to be totally coherent."

Albus nodded. "What do they want?"

"Lord Hellsing 'drove' them here because they wished to see their son…"

Albus paused. Why hadn't they owed him first? This was quite rude and while he respected the sentiment, and agreed with it, some forewarning would have been appreciated.

Moments later, he heard a hoot and an owl dropped a letter on his desk.

He opened it and laughed to himself.

So much for that idea. They had sent a warning, only they'd been faster than the owl.

"Escort the Longbottoms into my office and summon Neville."

"And what of Lord Hellsing?"

Dumbledore smiled warily. Most Muggle parents were given a tour of the school prior to their children's attendance. It was necessary to prove to them the realities of magic and let them know where their children very well may be spending the majority of the next seven years of their lives. Most wizarding parents didn't bother because they'd probably attended the school, or at least one like it, themselves. Lord Hellsing live at the bridge between worlds.

He was not a wizard but knew more about the magical and supernatural than any ten average wizards. He knew that Hogwarts was real and had signed his daughter up the moment he received her letter, but had never seen it for himself. Maybe this could be a chance to do so, and to introduce young Harry to his new legal guardian.

"I think its time that Lord Hellsing gets his official tour of the school," Dumbledore stated with a twinkle in his eye.

"What?" Minerva exclaimed.

"He is a parent of a student, and as such it is his right to see his child's school."

She sighed and smiled beleaguered. "Very well… who would you like to conduct the tour?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I think Integra and her friends have more than enough of a knowledge of the grounds to do so, but if you feel they need adult supervision, then Hagrid will suffice quite nicely."


End file.
